On Butterfly's Wings
by Tao-Ri-Sarra
Summary: Life is ever changing-This is a fact that Ichigo Kurosaki is quite intimate with. He's experienced things in life that dreams and nightmares are born on. Now with his powers returned he's thrust back into a war that began 21 years ago-with his birth and wages on as friend and foe alike are forced against him again. Follows IchiRuki, MasakIsshin, GrimmHime, UlquiHime, SousKiri.
1. Decisions

_**May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun  
>And find your shoulder to light on,<br>To bring you luck, happiness and riches  
>Today, tomorrow and beyond.<br>**_

The Urahara shop had found itself in a flutter of commotion, despite being closed for the shopkeeper's holiday. Ururu and Ginta had been urged to hide themselves, as a regular guest was joined with a new comer baring the mark of the royal guard, the woman having an elegant twist to her hair like the mark of nobility.

The topic was of extreme care, as it involved his last pupil, and the decision was as final as death and despite the matter involving Ichigo, Isshin seemed un-involved.

"This is a matter of taking your son's future away from him. Of course I'm going to repeat myself." Urahara commented, looking down at the object at hand.

"Exactly. That's why I'm asking you not to repeat yourself."

"Of Course."

"Well then, let's finalize these proceedings, shall we?" an elegantly decorated woman murmured urgently, her voice stern as she turned her bright eyes on them. "Do it."

"Even if it's not my own wish, Ichigo will only allow himself to be strong. Its killing him not being able to protect people like he once was."

Looking to the woman with a sort of reverence, Urahara nodded softly while Isshin implored, "Just give me three days to sort out the situation."

**XOX**

Jumping up out of his deep sleep at the blaring sound beside him, Ichigo gasped, sharp hard breaths panting from his lips. Nightmares from the winter war had plagued him; the friends he had lost within instants shook him to the core. He had lost his Zanpakutou, the blade disappearing as it had cut through Aizen to end his very existence and send him into the deepest gates of hell.

He had been left shattered, broken alone in exile, unable to do the good he once had, and it was tearing him up inside.

It had been three weeks now since he had encountered the EXcution and his father had avoided all conversation with him, like he foresaw the next sit down conversation they had to go sour and straight to the month he spent in the Senkaimon.

Reaching up to rub his head roughly to get rid of the damned headache he had inadvertently received upon awakening, his auburn eyes briefly caught a glimpse of a scab on his right wrist in the shape of a horseshoe-like bite mark. Unsure of where he received it, Ichigo turned his arm this way and that to look at it.

A large bruise took over the better part of the top of the cresting bite mark, dark and sickly purple and green marring the once slightly sun kissed flesh of his inner arm.

The mark had appeared from nowhere. He had gone to bed quite late the night before, having found Yuzu and Karin sitting up waiting for him in the kitchen after his late night with the EXcution group.

They shouldn't worry like they did, he knew that. But deep inside, he was proud that they had grown the way they had, adapted to the malicious situation they had been thrust into.

Shaking off the mark on his wrist, he chopped it up to the random scrapes and bruises he normally acquired during his day to day activities.

Pulling himself from bed grew more and more a chore, as the days in his training grew more and more brutal. Yukio and Ginjou had allowed him access to Orihime during his endless training, and the level of intensity had multiplied along with the injuries settling into his pale flesh.

The weekend had passed and the group found themselves unable to keep the boy any longer should the authorities investigate his activities and so Ichigo had nothing else to do other than follow through with the life of a normal teenage boy.

Skipping through the kitchen just barely to nab an apple, Ichigo muttered a farewell to his sisters before heading out the door. It wasn't long until a tinkling noise behind him caught his utmost attention.

"IICHHIIIGOOO! " A shrill voice cried out behind him, as the sound of pounding feet headed towards him. He could hear the girl's heavier breathing as she approached him as fast as she could. He hesitated at the bottom of the stairwell, glancing backwards as she bounded forward, "Ichigo wait for us!"

Not only was Orihime on his trail, Tatsuke had joined her chase.

"How are you feeling, Ichigo? Orihime old me about the accident you and Uryu got into. Its fortunate the car only hospitalize Ishida-kun and scraped you up a bit."

It occurred quickly to Ichigo what Orihime had stepped up and done swiftly, as the girls had recently taken itself upon themselves to seeing to keeping up the loop in the group. A dark fluttering motion behind him drew Ichigo's attention for a moment before it was gone, settling the flower blossoms astray from the tree.

"Tsukishima?" he murmured silently. Orihime was the only one who noticed and had also looked the direction and shook her head at something Tatsuke had mentioned.

"They say Ishida-kun will be right enough to be out of bed after Thursday, but he won't be back in class until well into next week. We'll have to see to bringing him his school work."

_**XOX**_

"Hey hey hey! Where're you headed off to this late at night?" Ichigo called after his sister just as she disappeared from sight, "KARIN! KARIN GET BACK HERE!"

Realizing the girl would not be listening to him any time soon, Ichigo hefted the window further open, before jumping out the window after her, hitting the ground running like he had so many times before during his Shinigami duties.

A flutter of white silk shivered in the wind where his sister once stood, then, suddenly was gone without a trace. Ichigo looked madly around, searching, but could see nothing under the darkened cover of night.

Turning towards the flash of white, Ichigo took off towards where he could only assume the figure had gone off in.

He followed it blindly; unaware of the being that tailed his every movement like a waking shadow.

**_XOX_**

The night had begun like any other before it. At least that was how Karin had felt about the matter as she walked into her home at 8 that Saturday evening, her spirit hunting a loss for the fifth night in a row.

Coming into the front door, she called for Yuzu, looking around for her.

First she poked her head into the kitchen, expecting her fussing sister to be bent over a burning skillet, as the faint smell of fried meat wafted to her. Immediately then she took the hall one room at a time, poking her head into each door in search of the girl.

Opening their bedroom door, Karin called out softly, looking around the room for any sight of her sister. Once in the room however, she recognized her error, as she turned around, racing for the door.

Screeching softly, Karin moved to escape, grabbing at the door as a hand came down on her, dragging her to the floor.

"That's not a nice way to treat our cousin, Karin." Yuzu admonished in a sharp tone.

Turning to look at her blankly, the dark haired girl felt fear settle into the pit of her gut as she realized that her sister had been taken by a spell, and that she herself had no hope for escape.

The younger girl wrapped her thin arms tightly around her sister as she dragged her away from her only escape and from her hug, Karin didn't even recognize the blade would be upon her until it was too late.

_**XOX**_

Ichigo sighed deeply, reaching for the door knob to the medical center his father ran, pulling open the door and moving over the threshold. "I'm so glad you're home big brother!" Yuzu cried, tugging at Ichigo's arm persistently.

The interior of the room shocked Ichigo; as it was so late it was odd that his sisters had lit the room so brightly in awaiting him coming home, if he came home. He settled a soft smile at the way Yuzu seemed so overly excited to receive him home.

"You'll never guess who stopped by."

Glancing up however, everything lost its spark as he recognized the figure sitting comfortably next to Karin on the sofa.

The tall figure leaned back to glance over his shoulder, a mild smile passing over his lips, "It's been a while, Ichigo Kurosaki…"

Ichigo ran as fast as he could, trying to escape the possessed beings his friends and family had become with a strike of Tsukishima's sword.

Surely someone else wasn't under this spell.

**_XOX_**

Uryu panted deeply, clutching at the wounds that were starting to seep blood at his side, "Kurosaki, come here."

Glancing between Ishida and Tsukishima, Ichigo had to decide swiftly who he could trust as a single moment ad he might lose himself to Tsukishima's spell.

Ginjou had been cut, but if Ishida had escaped the spell perhaps his new ally might as well.

"Ichigo! You idiot! Don't you realize that t he man that cut me is the man standing behind you!"

Turning, Ichigo saw the change in the slick haired man just as his sword pierced right through his chest.

"Now you're full bring belongs to me…."

A darkness unlike any other closed in around him, tightening in around his very soul. The darkness he had faced with Zangetsu was seeping at the edges of his vision, licking at the sword Ginjou had shoved through him.

The blade that had struck him was removed along with his strength. Falling to his knees Ichigo began to shriek out his agony. "GIVE IT BACK TO ME!"

The agony was worse then he ever remembered, as the tears refused to stop.

A second blade entered him from behind, breaking him even further.

Glancing back, Ichigo took in his father and Urahara, both garbed in Shinigami hakama and haori, grim faces adorning them as Isshin adverted his eyes with despair.

"So this is how it is. You guys too!?" he cried, letting the tears fall freely down his face.

"Look again Ichigo," Isshin muttered softly, still not laying eyes on his son, "you should be able to see who's holding that sword now."

Looking harder, Ichigo watched as a woman materialized, her arms wrapped in medical gloves as his blood dripped down her dainty arms. A soft smile sparkled on soft rosy lips and Ichigo took in a slightly changed Rukia.

"I took his powers from him- all of them!" Ginjou cried, standing proudly against the Shinigami. "I have taken his Fullbring and thus his Shinigami powers! There's no conceivable way that just one person's reitsu could return his powers!"

A short snort cut the man off, "You imbecile."

"All of us gave him back his powers so it was no problem at all," Renji interjected from his place among the rebellious captains.

"Ginjou was it? What you stole was merely a small portion of Ichigo's power that had fused to his Fullbring, as you called it," Rukia explained, "the Shinigami power Ichigo has wells up from deep within him. It is impossible for you to take that from him!"

"Ichigo! These fools don't understand that this isn't nearly enough to make you despair! They don't know….the caliber of despair that you have already conquered!"

"Show them Ichigo- Despair cannot ever hope to stop you!"

"Your right..." Ichigo agree, hefting his sword over his shoulder. He brought the blade down sharply to crash just beside where Ginjo once stood.

"HA! Your only hope hasn't given you anything! This isn't nearly enough to kill me Kurosaki!"

"You are an idiot. That wasn't Getsuga.. was just a practice swing."

"GETSUGAAAA TENSHOUUU!"

**_XOX_**

A dark haired woman walked the ways of a horrendous carnage, taking in the damage that one Ryoka had done. As she stepped bells tinkled before muting in the pools of blood, her tall geta smearing the crimson across the asphalt as she tentatively stepped around heaped slumps of human flesh. A small smile spread over her ruby lips as she lifted her kimono slightly in order to avoid the gore of one particularly nasty mess.

A small tug paused her from her journey and she snarled briefly. Glancing down at the slime that grabbed at her kimono, the woman snarled, kicking him in the face, her okobo smashing his skull, "I don't have time to deal with the likes of you. I'm only here to meddle in the lives of those innocents you might have rather dragged into dangerous disastrous."

Ginjou persisted with his hold as she began to walk away again, slightly tearing at the fine green fabric. Kneeling down she looked upon the hemorrhaging vessel, "Your blade is cracked and you are no match for me. So how about you lay waste to these ideas of stabbing me when I turn away- I may allow you to live out the few moments you have left."

Understanding that the man would sooner die then allow her to travel on her way, she drew a pick from her hair and jammed it through his skull as she muttered a soft "Hadou 103. Karoshi."

As he fell, the jingle of the hollow bells echoed, carrying on the wind many miles to their intended receiver. Standing to attention, she turned her vision to the moon, the visage soothing her as she once again began on her way.

She rather had more important things to be doing than playing a survivor scout. She was not the clean up crew... With an irritable sigh, she stripped off her kimono as she walked away, tossing it over the still cindering remains of her mercy victim.

_**Author's notes: I do not own Bleach by Tite Kubo. Respective rights to their owners and all that jazz. Quote at beginning is an Irish Prayer**_

**_Karoshi means sudden death in Japanese._**

_**Story begins shortly after the Events of Manga chapter 460ish. Spoilers are present and exist in this story. Otherwise, continues on a different plot line somewhat parallel. **_**_This chapters purpose is to catch you up with the manga as well as tie the two stories together. Please use Tite Kubo's manga (his copyright) as a guide for this chapter other wise it will be extremely choppy. _**

_**NEW NOTE 7/2014: Just a heads up to any and all new readers: I am updating the story. This started out before the beginning of the Fullbringer Arc. I struggled, I will admit, to try to start at that point. So, I ask that for those of you just joining, please give a few chapters attention before passing judgement. I'm still editing it down again. and we'll simply call the first two chapters "set up plot." They never really were meant to exist, but I felt I had to write them, and now that they are written, can't bring myself to defeat them. Perhaps one day I will change this to something resembling the others, but until then, its what you get. Sorry**_

_**With all the love in the world-**_

Taori


	2. In the Beginning

**In the beginning**

_She said let's change our luck_

_This night is all that we've got_

_Drive fast until we crash_

_This dead end life_

_Sweet dreams that won't come true_

_I leave it all for you_

_Brick walls are closing in_

_Let's make_

_A run tonight_

Everything in the Rukon districts moved the same every day. They got up each morning with the sunrise, ate a menial breakfast before slaving away for that meal and then retiring once more for the day.

This day was no different. The only exception was the intrusion upon their lives which would have been otherwise unseen had it not been for the events proceeding it.

Every morning Isshin Kurosaki awoke in attic he and his family-like crew had squatted in, just before the rest of humanity would be lying down for the night.

As they awoke for the night, he would take up the stale bread they had stolen from a dumpster and break it six ways among them, leaving after they were through to start their work for the day.

You see Isshin led a band of thieves, a group of children to be exact, all starving in the exiles of the Rukon. The shadows that they emerged from would someday release a Gin Ichimaru, but that is a different tale for another day.

This day was different.

As their day slowly came to an end, Isshin would lower the rope ladder they owned into the alleyway and would help his friends upstairs. One after another they would file in until he himself would ascend the ladder and pull it back into the window.

This day was different. As Isshin stood where he did day after day, his friends were being slaughtered, not that he knew this. All he did was stand in the same place he had for days. Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

They never came. Not even when the sun began to raise across the sky.

_Blinded_

_By the light_

_Hold you through forever_

_Won't let you go_

Isshin had been wandering the streets for hours now. He was exhausted, his feet dragging for he had been awake for over 22 hours now. His feet were blistering and his faith was failing fast.

And then the remarkable happened- he heard a woman's high pitched scream. He turned in the direction and ran through crowds of bustling common folk, emerging onto a large square where a great many people had crowded.

Isshin felt ill to his stomach. He had finally found them.

"You will pay the price for your sins!"

A burly man was standing over a pile of dead bodies beating a girl vehemently, her dark violet hair violently flying with each strike. Blood was dripping from her face and matting her hair to her face. The girl, Kirio, was shrieking hysterically now, crying for forgiveness even if her voice was failing her.

Running from the crowd, Isshin did the only thing he could think of. He punched the man square in the face, taking the much larger man down.

Kirio dropped to the ground hard and scrambled away and towards the crowd, pulling her kimono closed as she went.

The man then turned on Isshin, grappling with him to gain control as he slammed the boy repeatedly into the ground.

"Stop!" a sharp shriek echoed through the market, hushing everyone and everything which had been once hustling and bustling along.

All eyes shot to a wide eyed woman with delicately woven green and gold kimono that had launched herself from a carrier carriage. She was over dressed to be from the Rukongai, but much too delicate and beautiful to be one of the Shinigami. Her hair swept over her shoulders in long strawberry blonde wisps where it cascaded elegantly down her back.

The entire crowd which had already gathered to watch the beating the teen was about to receive dispersed as the woman approached, two more figures coming from the carriage as well to flank the young woman.

Smiling down at the young child, the woman knelt down to her level, tucking the kimono away from the dirty road before addressing the shaking girl.

A hand disappeared into her purse and pulled out a small red coin draw-stringed bag holding some coins within it from the inside fold of her haori and held it out to the girl, "Here, so your life may be more prosperous in the near future."

Quiet hands took claim of the gift as the beautiful woman was lifted from the ground and marched away like a scolded child, though the woman held herself elegantly still, even as the woman with cold steel like eyes and dark unruly hair tucked into a bun, and a swirling black symbol woven into the silver obi of her kimono hissed a curt, "Remember your place, princess."

"As long as you remember yours, Lady Shiba." Was her soft response as she disappeared into the enclosed room.

The dark haired boy rushed to his sister, drawing her into his arms as the soldiers filed in right after their princess and the crowd that had once longed for their blood dispersed.

She had been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was pale and oh so lovely, with a gentility which surpassed any he had seen in any of his lifetimes.

She was everything he ever wanted, and because of the brief smile she had given him, even in passing, he was determined to meet her again.

Nothing would stop him from returning to her side once again.

Even if it meant joining the Gotei Thirteen.

'_Cause if you jump I will jump too_

_We will fall together_

_From the building's ledge_

_Never looking back_

_At what_

_We've done_

_We'll say_

_It was love_

'_Cause I would die for you_

_On Skyway Avenue_

He had fallen asleep at his desk again. Granted the position he had awoken in had little to be desired thanks to his devout underling which scurried behind him at all times trying her very best to take the utmost care of him.

A pillow that had not been present in the room when he had entered it was folded in half and wedged against his shoulder where his head had leaned deeply when he had drifted off.

Glancing downwards he took in her somewhat haggard appearance. Her lovely purple hair hung limply around her face, and she lay crumpled on the floor her mouth agape in a soft snore as her dainty hands curled in the lush carpet of the library reminding him deeply of the child he had watched grow into the woman that was before him now.

Deep, dark rings had made their presence known on her slightly sun drenched flesh, heralding of no sleep for his poor sister due to her role in the king's court.

A soft knock came from just outside the door, and the secret task force member found himself stumbling internally to get up, unable to move however as the girl had moved to cuddle his leg.

The door quietly cracked open just enough for the dark haired man to catch sight of elegant cascading orange curls and the golden and white veil and kimono that kept her the visage of beauty.

The white haori and hair pins brought out the pale complexion hiding just beyond the delicate gold veil which dangled from a crown that sat perfectly upon her soft angled face, hair wove around it and back down in the aforementioned orange waves.

Her pale, full lips drew up into a large smile as she stepped smoothly into the library, her deft hand sliding the door behind her as a look of relief set upon her face.

"It's a lovely night out, isn't it?" she smiled again meekly, moving across the room to open the back door that led out to one of the gardens outside. "I noticed the sakura blossoms falling from my room earlier, but was unable to leave until now."

"It's late, Lady Masaki. You ought to be in bed resting in preparation for tomorrow's activities."

"I'd much rather walk outside then sleep this night. Besides," she turned to regard the man with gentle eyes, "What's so important tomorrow that I indeed must be rested?"

Wide brown orbs met hers surprised, "I had thought that a few very high perspective courtiers were granted audience with you tomorrow? I thought you would be excited to be wedded to a respectable husband so soon after your coming of age."

Large golden eyes creased as a large smile spread across he farthest reaches of her skin. "What a great loss that might be. Just another courtier after my hand which will never be granted until my father's hand begins to slip. Either way, it's not my decision in the end, so what does it ever matter? I'll never be happy with anyone my heart has not accepted, and that won't occur with any of the men my father has accredited."

"And there would be any man that would satisfy a woman of your caliber? I find that hard to believe my lady."

"Thoughts often are hard to perceive, Isshin. Perhaps that is why you have always intrigued me. So, how about that walk? I promise only to go as far as the lake; it's just far out enough that I won't be overheard and close enough to see the petals scatter across the water."

Sighing, Isshin nodded his accent, moving to the sliding door and opening it wide for the princess to leave. She stepped over the threshold quietly before pausing momentarily pausing, turning to glance back at the man that was following her uneasily.

"Do you know why a butterfly is so lovely, Isshin? I'll give you a hint; it's something I have always coveted deeply."

Isshin remained silent, turning his head in the negative after a few moments before assisting her along the trail further.

"Freedom, butterflies are lovely because they have the freedom to breathe and linger, or flee as far away as they need to be happy. I am unhappy in my crystal palace, where eyes are always prying, always stealing glances but nothing more. It is one of the biggest reasons why I adore your company so much. You have always been so willing to give as much as you take."

Gently her hand touched his lips, lingering as they brushed down to pet the soft whiskers lining his chin.

Before either knew exactly what had occurred, their lips met with a hesitant brush, lingering as they shook against each others' heated flesh, before allowing themselves to crash against the other, taking in the warmth the other had to offer.

Their lips collided again and again until the ground shifted and Masaki found herself gazing lovingly up at the gentle yet hardened soldier bracing himself over her, the grass soft and wet around them creating almost a barrier from the palace. "Please…."

Isshin drew himself over the woman, placing heated kiss after heated kiss against the pale column of her neck where her kosode had fallen open slightly.

"Please take me away from here, where it could be only you and I, free as the butterflies that flit from open palms."

"I don't know how to, Masaki. But I promise, I will make you happy, even if it ends my life."

_She said don't change your mind_

_Let's leave this town behind_

_We'll race right off the cliff_

_They will remember this_

_It all got so mundane_

_With you I'm back again_

_Just take me by the hand_

_We're close_

_To the edge_

Kirio drew up to her captain quietly, the sound of bells the only indication she was near before she pressed her shoulder into him.

"The young prince seems to be in a rare mood today, Shiba-sama. I beg that you stay far from him."

Glancing down at the girl he noted the way her sapphire eyes were glaring daggers towards where she had come, her hair loose down over her shoulder and the way she had been dressed in several yukata, giving her usual warrioristic look way to a more fairy tale like one.

"You look very nice today though, Kirio. Might that also be accredited to the prince's presence?"

"Hikifune-chan!" a silky voice called her from across the room. She froze, a deep chill passing through her as her captain brought his hand down on her small, fragile shoulder holding her down as the brown haired boy approached.

He had an upset air to him, like his lieutenant had left him in the midst of an argument. The boy's presence did not bode well for the actions he planed for the upcoming days, and so he unwillingly sacrificed his oldest friend for his own escape.

Bowing slightly to the boy, he immediately felt his sister freeze up, acknowledging his distance as he pulled away from her, abandoning her with the one she feared above all else.

She mewed at the loss of contact, realizing she would once again have to fend off the demon for the time being. His infatuation with her infuriated and scared her.

Despite his genuine worry for the girl, Isshin knew she could take care of herself. Either way, he had other things that had to get taken care of to deal with.

Moving swiftly through the territory, Isshin found himself traveling down the same path as the night before until he arrived at a large stone archway, heavily guarded by his own troops.

"Open the gate." Isshin ordered as he stepped up to the Senkaimon, knowing full well that he would have to hurry his business once he got to the land of the living.

_Blinded_

_By the light_

_Hold you through forever_

_Won't let you go_

'_Cause if you jump I will jump too_

_We will fall together_

_From the building's ledge_

_Never looking back_

_At what_

_We've done_

_We'll say_

_It was love_

'_Cause I would die for you_

_On Skyway Avenue_

Once in the human world, Isshin wasted no time in walking to where he was. He found himself in front of a shambled storefront and an angry noblewoman.

The woman was out of sight at first, hidden in the tree line until he stepped into the shop's yard where she intercepted him.

"Let me ease your fears. I am not here to execute you."

"Then what do you want?" Yoruichi hissed.

"I have come to seek assistance from you, Shihoin-sama." Isshin murmured as he pushed through and into the house, not allowing an instant of hesitation from the two runaways within.

The hovel was dimly lit, but from what he could see was decorated well enough for an escaped convict, surely the hand of the noble. Turning to her, he took the movement he needed to broach the subject. "You were once a member of Lady Masaki's escorts, and so you surely must have known of her unhappiness."

Looking down at her work, Yoruichi nodded silently, "There wasn't a member of squad zero nor of the detention squad that did not acknowledge that."

"I have lain with the princess, and that is our sin alone." The dark haired man admitted, head bowed down. He knew he was involving two of the worst people in his crimes, but had no choice but to move forward. "I have come to grant you both amnesties, with your assistance of course."

"Someone notified me of Urahara's actions in Soul Society- all of them. I know for a fact that he was working on a creation that enables deceased souls to inhabit a body. If you are willing to assist Masaki escape, I can promise you that neither of you will be executed for your crimes prior to this day. I am leaving instructions with a competent subordinate. "

"I'll need three days." Urahara stated, looking to Yoruichi for support. "Three days and both of your blood."

"I will have them brought to you immediately then." Isshin nodded his thanks before taking his leave.

_Where are your guts to fly_

_Soaring through_

_Through the night_

_And if you take that last step_

_I'll follow you_

_Leave the edge_

_And we'll fly_

_We're finally alive_

The days passed in a blur. The preparation for their escape was kept to a bare minimum, and the only souls that knew of their deceit were his lieutenant, Kirio, the Lady Shihoin and the man that would destroy Soul Society.

Urahara created a gigai which was untraceable, allowing Masaki to escape the control of her father unhindered. When she ran away to the human world, Isshin followed her to protect her, thinking himself in deep love with the princess.

They escaped just long enough for the situation to become permanent. When Soul Society had just been made aware of their disappearance, Masaki's reitsu had already bonded with her gigai, and Isshin was too far gone in his own gigai to be moved.

You see, while they had settled into human life, Isshin had intelligently integrated himself into important opportunities which would have led to a lot of unanswered questions should he disappear- a prestigious university where he made top grades, a hospital clerics assistant, and most importantly a loyal friend of a Quincy, whom had a deep lying hatred for the Soul Society and all the reapers that laid therein. Seireitei search in vain for the escapees, but found only whispers of their locked away spiritual pressure, forcing Soul Society to leave the two alone, thinking them too far gone to punish.

However, they left several loopholes. As Isshin had promised, the hunt for Yoruichi and Urahara ceased, for they were the trap Soul Society would keep for the two. Exiled, Urahara would have contact with Soul Society and would eventually stumble upon Isshin. Then Soul Society would be allowed to arrest the higher criminal, the one that destroyed the Spirit realm and set it aflame with chaos.

Isshin.

'_Cause if you jump I will jump too_

_We will fall together_

_From the building's ledge_

_Never looking back_

_At what_

_We've done_

_We'll say_

_It was love_

'_Cause I would die for you_

_On Skyway Avenue_

_So what's left to prove_

_We have made it_

_Through_

_**(Current Day)**_

Glancing over to a shadowy set of figures crouching near his window, Isshin let out a deep sigh, drawing his hair back exasperatedly, "So its time already, huh?"

The slighter of the two smiled softly, bowing her head, as she shuffled the limp frame of a young girl in her arms, "I'm afraid so."

A small smile passed his lips, as he nodded his acceptance.

"I always hopped you'd be the one to catch me. If you'll allow me enough time to explain, I'll except my fate willingly."

**YAY~ Read and Review. More will be offered in upcoming chapters.**

**I suppose I have a bit of explaining to do in other chapters.**

**But first I'd like to mention a bit of background. I dislike creating new characters. All characters in this story will be from Tite Kubo's world, the first example being Kirio. She was the first captain of squad 12, Urahara's pre-successor. I won't go into too much history depth unless you, the fans, ask me to, because I realize if you're reading this you're already a fan.**

**The prince will be later named. However, if you feel you need to guess, go ahead in the reviews. If you're right, I'll give you props when I do name him.**

**EDIT 7/14: I have modded Kirio's character description. Y'welcome.**


	3. Destiny

"Will you be taking your daughter, Isshin, or will I be left handling my niece all night?" Kirio murmured, shifting the small weight of the girl. One of her assistance stepped up and gently took the girl from her, so she could manage things with the traitor.

XOX

Only two members in his room were worthy of any notice, as they were ornately dressed and lacked the ninja-esq clothing that the others wore.

Leaning against the wall beside his desk was the most elegantly dressed women he had ever seen. Her long purple locks were pulled neatly into a half ponytail- save her front parted bangs and side swept hair which hang delicately down her to frame her doll like face- where the locks twisted into a unique bun, pinned back into the center with a jewel encrusted golden lotus comb. From there, the bright curls twisted down her back like an oozing cloud to graze her hips. Upon the door opening, the woman twisted from looking at her female companion on the bed to who had entered the room, her large blue eyes blinking softly and wide, her long eyelashes accentuated by the deep gold dusting her sun-kissed flesh had taken, as her chrysanthemum red lips open to relinquish a smile. "Kurosaki-sama!"

Finding herself unable to move in the obviously ornate eight layer kimono, the woman settled for dipping down into a deep bow.

Yoruichi sat, one leg crossed before her on his bed, head in a similar manner to the other woman, save her serious expression. Her hair had been cut off it appeared, short and framing her face in a defiant manner which opposed her comrade. Her kimono was a single layer mannered so that it just barely covered her, but a one piece black spandex tube shorts and top covered her down to her knees, making the Princess the image of relaxing protests.

"What the hell're you doing in my room, huh? Shouldn't you be at Urahara's, Yoruichi?"

Continuing along the room, Ichigo took in the group gathered near the window. It wasn't until now that Ichigo noticed that his sisters were being held within the group of face covered men. None of them looked particularly dangerous, save the one with his back to him, appearing to be talking to Karin, who looked to have stopped fighting her captors for the man.

The spiritual pressure the man was seeping made Ichigo falter, but his resolve was set knowing this unknown captain had his sisters captured.

Just as Ichigo moved to make his first attack, the target had moved across the room to stand at his side, and thrust his arm against Ichigo's thin shoulder, using his momentum to throw him against the wall.

The rough treatment made his head hurt, but Ichigo knew he had to be on his toes with someone with this power, especially if he had his sisters. His hand went to rub his orange haired head as he got up stubbornly before a harsher gust of reitsu hit him back to the ground.

"Stay right where you are Ichigo!" a familiar gruff voice admonished him as the power waned gently.

Immediately Ichigo looked up to the intruding man and the delicate doll that stood idly by beside him, the sound of tinkling bells echoing as she slid purposely to her spot beside him, dropping slowly yet elegantly to her knees, her warm hands touching his head where it had cracked against the wall and then floor.

A pair of thick geta filled his vision, followed by flowing hakama and a long tattered white hakama. Burly, hairy arms folded across his chest where a soul reaper badge sat proudly on his left arm. Continuing on, Ichigo faltered as his eyes met the eyes of his father, the harsh look and deeply crossed eyebrows making him twinge darkly.

"Rest, Kurosaki- sama," the tinkling voice called to him as she drew his face to her breast just as his vision blurred, "all will be explained all too soon. For now, rest, and know yourself truly. When you awake, I wish for you to be truly happy, for once in your life."

Her gentle hand touched his face once more before Ichigo blacked out completely.

"Captain?" she inquired softly, drawing herself from Ichigo as she settled him upon the floor delicately. She drew her eyes directly to Isshin's for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, "What would you have us do?"

Isshin sighed deeply before reaching deeply into his haori and retrieving a lighter and cigarette, pressing the unlit roll to his lips before igniting the paper and inhaling deeply responding, "You're to watch him until the time comes for things to fall into place, like I've been doing for the last seventeen years."

"I'll be honest, Kirio, I had hoped that you of all people would have left things be. Or maybe that you would lack the power to have found us until it was too late." Holding out the pack of cigarettes to the delicate doll-like woman, he smiled as she took one of the remaining six sticks and accepted his lighter with a similar attitude. "I always did love it when you took the initiative, you know? It made it hard for me to choose Masaki over you, but it's a choice I would make again if given the opportunity."

"How long do you expect us to wait until we tell him the secrets you have held, Isshin?"

With a dark look away, it took him all he had to utter, just for the delicate creature beside him, "It shouldn't be your burden to bear, lovely Hikifune. The decision was mine and mine alone. But if things are so serious as you say, I suppose sooner is better in this case, and while I would have liked to explain things to him and his sisters, I think it be best that you do it as soon as he awakes."

Nodding her acceptance, Kirio moved to lift the boy from the floor, making to walk out the window, "Zane."

"Yes, Hikufune-sama?" one of the shrouded figures inquired softly.

"Break Kurosaki-sama's soul sleeve. Then return the rest of our forces to Soul Society. I want four guards stationed in this house. No one is to leave or come inside but me."

Reaching to touch the sleeve of her kimono, Isshin paused the woman just long enough to glance back at him soulfully. "Thank you."

She nodded softly, "I expect you to explain to the girls what is happening before they come for you."

And with that Kirio as well as the forces in the room were gone, leaving Isshin with only Zane, Yoruichi and his daughters.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Ichigo awoke several hours later under several watchful sets of eyes.

Kirio had sat next to the boy since she had brought him there. As the highest ranking official in Soul Society, it was her responsibility to watch over the boy until he was conscious once more.

She had little over a month to prepare the boy for his royal duties. Too soon would the Spirit King fail and he would need to be replaced by someone from his own bloodline. With the death of the first son, the king had been weakened drastically. Now he was down to only a few choices- a bastard son, a half line that had been incarcerated in the Maggots Nest; a son he had not set eyes upon for nearly sixty years; a child she had bore the youngest prince; and the likeliest of candidates, the boy lying before her now.

He was the likeliest to be accepted, but was unlikely reliable enough to put all her faith in.

As he began to rise, Kirio moved closer, ready to aid him in any manner. He woke slowly, by small measurements until suddenly; she was gazing into the amber eyes of her brother.

He stared blankly for several minutes before closing his eyes once again. Then he worded his fears, "What happened to Ginjou? To my friends under Tsukishima's influence?"

"Only time will tell what will befall them but for now, they are safe. As for Ginjou," Kirio said softly, "He found an unfortunate end that was by no means unavoidable."

Ichigo nodded softly, still half drugged, "And what about me?"

"You're here to fulfill your destiny."

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Several hours later, Ichigo was absorbing all he had been told. This woman before him, Kirio, was the closest thing he had to extended family, and was telling him he had until the next harvest moon to seize control of the Spirit King's throne, a position which was his birthright.

Likewise, she urged him to seize control of Soul Society first, as that was the major source of power and chaos he would have to face as an unrecognized member of the crown.

He would have to marry someone and produce serious evidence of an attempt at an heir, something he had never eve really thought about, as the only girls he ever had any experience with was Tatsuki and Orihime and both of those were barely accountable.

He had a lot to absorb in a very short time. Kirio was not about to allow him to question his destiny either. As soon as he was able to move, she had him on his feet and moving to squad one's barracks for a meeting with Yamamoto Soutaichou.


	4. Things that Occur in the Dark

_**Things That Occur in the Dark**_

Glancing across the room Kirio found herself smiling softly as she took in the reflective image of her captain in his younger days, crumpled over a series of bound and loose literature, a candle burning to the quick as the boy slept exhaustively on an open page, his mouth slightly a gap.

She found herself drawing a blanket around the man gingerly, her arms wrapping around his model-like frame before pressing her thick lips to his forehead. It occurred to her that this boy was not her brother but his son, as the soft black tendrils beneath her lips turned a gentle orange in her delusion and the frame seemed slighter in her hold.

Shaking the sense of loss from her bones, she blew out the flickering flame before pattering out of the room once again, making quick time back to her own bedroom.

Settling into her bed, she slid down until her ankles curved the edge of the mattress. Her hand settled on the uneven scar that spread over abdomen, reveling in the sense of loss it represented.

Finding difficulty in succumbing to sleep, she rolled to her side, pulling her legs into a fetal position. There she fell asleep quickly, falling into a slumber that left her crawling in remorse.

xoxoxoxoxo

The gentle echoing noise of knuckles on thin wood woke Rukia prematurely from her sleep. She rose tiredly, wiping at her face to get the sleep from her eyes.

When she finally addressed the intruder in her room, she had readied herself mentally for a fight, only to find the saddened eyes of her oldest friend gazing back at her, the furrowing of his brows shortening his long tattooed forehead.

"Renji, what's wrong?" Rukia asked, sliding off her bed and edging towards the man she had considered her best friend for the better part of her lifetime.

"I've received direct orders from Soutaichou," Renji began uneasily, "to inform you of your upcoming position in life."

She approached warily, coming short of arms length as she looked up at him uncomfortably.

He glanced at her uneasily as he gauged her reaction thus far to his news, "It's been decided that, as a member of the noble Kuchiki clan, you will be gifted to the eldest heir of the Spirit King. Word is he'll be here in three days in time for the new moon cycle."

Looking up, Rukia's voice caught in her throat, before throwing her thin arms around Renji's neck, shocking her best friend beyond words.

"I won't….I won't do it….I'll refuse." Her hands tightened at the neck of Renji's shihakashou, "I'm not a noble- I was just adopted into the Kuchiki clan… I'll run away, I can defect like Urahara-san and Yoruichi-sama."

"You don't have a choice, Rukia. It doesn't matter if you're a noble or a slummed up street rat back in Rukongai. When the Royal Family makes a declaration of this magnitude, they follow through with their decision. Besides," he paused, drawing Rukia from her tight grip on his neck, "how do you think you could hide from gods?"

The breath she hadn't known she was holding hissed passed her full lips creakily, and she found herself clinging harder to Renji, "Please, don't let this happen. Please, Renji….help me…"

A gentle hand curved around her skull, petting her gently as he contemplated all he would have to do. "I'm not sure what I can do, but I'll try.'

Xoxoxoxoxo

(Kirio's dreamland)

_The two had sat quiet and content for quite some time, curled before the fire in sprawled cuddling positions of relaxation, the girl leaning against his stronger form for support as they went about their duties on their own in comfortable companionship. Kirio knew better than to break her captain's concentration, and so after her paperwork had been completed she took to readying herself for bed. It wasn't long before Isshin shut his book and glanced down at the young woman pointedly._

"_That boy still doting on you left and right, Kirio?" Isshin asked bluntly, glancing at the young girl who busied herself with her hairbrush._

_She nodded softly, her green hair jostling slightly at her accent. "He's been particularly persistent in his devotions recently," her hand tucked itself into her obi before pulling out a long coil of gold before the bottom of a fan poked its head out of the thick material. "And that's the cheapest of his little gifts for me. I can't walk into any room in this place anymore without finding something he's left behind."_

_Nodding his dark head, the man took the initiative to broach the subject entirely, "and how long would you suppose that you will string him along before his interests in you tire and he grows bored?"_

_Shaking his head, Isshin lowered his palm to rest on her unruly hair, "You ought to consent while you still can negotiate your own terms. Someday it won't be your choice and someday I won't be around to protect you from the consequences of your slowness."_

_He was leaving her. She knew exactly what she would have to do, despite any promises she had made to herself. In order to protect them both, she would have to consent to the Prince. Something about that made her uneasy but she had no choice but to agree to her captain's terms._

"_Ai, Isshin-sama. First thing tomorrow I'll go to him."_

_But it was her fear that kept that from occurring. She had waited nine days until suddenly she realized it was less then a week until the prince's birthday. As was tradition, he would be granted his heart's desire despite the impossibility of the wish and she had no doubt in her mind that what he would request was her._

_She had six days to change that wish by offering him what had always alluded him. Time was not her friend either, as this night was the only one she had access to find him alone and make good her plans. And so that very night she had readied herself for bed the same as she did when she rose before going to the prince's private wing._

_The air in the hall chilled her bare feet as she padded towards her fate, her breath heavy as she rapped three times at the door which would otherwise change her life._

"_I've decided the fate of my heart." The girl called, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. Her grey eyes glanced down at the trembling hand that held her yukata closed for now._

_Her heart echoed in her ears and she could feel her chest tightening as her breathing rate increased. Weeks ago the young man would have flung the door open upon her entering his family's private wings, word of her trespassing on the air so swift that he seemed to be everywhere at once. Perhaps he had lost interest as Isshin had foretold?_

_Just as she began to gain up the nerve to knock a second time, the thick door slid open to reveal a slightly disheveled man in chocolaty satin pajamas which brought out his pale complexion and his golden eyes behind his dark glasses. The young prince allowed his eyes to scan over her softly shaking form before settling his gaze on the pale knuckles that held her entirety from him._

"_And what would that decision be?"_

"_I'm willing to accept your proposition. Under MY circumstantial conditions of course." She said determinedly, glancing at the man as she stood her ground. "A gift that would show your undying faith to me."_

"_And that would be?" _

_Glancing around the hall she took in the guards that eyed her warily despite her ranking in the royal guard, "Let me in and we'll discuss it"_

_He glanced at the few faithful men to him and nodded them off as he stepped back and offered the girl entrance to his room._

_Despite the roaring fire, a chill filled her colder than standing outside of the room as she glanced anywhere but at the man, taking in the rich browns and greens around the expanse._

_Stepping over the threshold, Kirio pushed the door tight before shifting the lock. Her hand relinquished its grip on the cloth, allowing it to crumple at her feet before she stepped out of it and stood for the precise inspection of her prince. Her body was her leverage, the only one she could manage on a would-be god, so she used it regretlessly. "Promise me the long life any traitors against the crown."_

_Seeming to contemplate the request, the boy went to a glass bottle of rum before pouring two generous glasses before offering the nearly naked girl one. She took it with thanks before downing it in one fast go, fighting the urge to surge the fiery liquid back out. Taking his own sip, he seemed to contemplate the request of his would be queen._

"_Do you know of any conspiracies worth protecting the vermin behind it, or are you looking out for your own hide, Hikifune-chan?"_

_Glancing at him fearlessly, she countered his inquiry with one of her own, "Would it change your decision if my answer was either? I'm offering you all I am, all you've wanted, for the leniency of those whom would be brought to death. You can either take it and my willingness or deny it, and drag me to your bed, the choice is yours."_

"_Show me your devotion." The man said, sitting down elegantly onto his bed before patting the spot beside him. "And you will receive the world, there will be naught that you will want that won't be besought to you."_

"_What would you have me do?" she drew nearer to the man warily, offering up her pale body as a sacrifice._

"_Whatever you would do to please me," A smile passed his lips, a challenge in his voice."But I will have it now, not later once your clarity wavers." His hand reached out and appreciatively touched her full breast, cupping the bottom of the globe experimentally, "ye gad my father made you perfectly…"_

_She hesitated as she realized exactly what would befall her this night before she threw her worry away for now, coming up to the boy and kneeling at his feet. She licked her lips before letting them brush the tip of his head warmly, feeling the warm velvet caress her waiting mouth before she opened her lips and took him in inch by inch, taking care to touch the tip as she went._

_He swept his hand over the woman's soft green hair, taking its short length in its entirety in his hand before he let it drift strand by strand like grains of sand in a time turner. "I've told you many time's that I loved you, Kirio. Must you continuously deny that?"_

_Pushing him even deeper into her oral cavity, she purred, licking the shaft as she bobbed her head, like she had done a great many times in the Rukongai. Shamelessly, she took him, taking her time with her work. Her prince choked on his own tongue as she swallowed him deeply before a cry left his lips and he coursed thick milky fluid over her mouth. She looked up at him with wet, unblinking eyes, letting the young prince see precisely what he was doing to her. He seemed to hardly care as he pushed her face back down, forcing her to take his load. She felt dirty and exposed only momentarily before he pulled her up by his hand fisted angrily in her hair, "I showed you nothing but reverence and love, and yet you resisted. I had thought that our love would have been a beautiful, untaintable thing."_

_She knew in her heart of hearts what would happen next. Never before had she sexually pleased a man, but that didn't mean she was ignorant to courting ritual. When she had roamed the Rukon her elder sisters had offered up their own bodies to save her own- Isshin himself had taken a few here and there when it was just them on their own._

_His free hand took its chance to stroke the length of her face down over her chin to her mouth where the fingertips paused to feel the dull pulse that her swollen lips had taken as they turned a tart cherry, "How can I destroy something so perfect, something I've yearned for for years like it was meaningless? I apologize, Hikifune-chan, but you must wait your deflowering for some time. I won't have you tainted, only beautiful and pure."_

_At this, he grew distant, his face growing colder like porcelain in its perfection as he closed off the emotion he and Kirio had been sharing. His soft lips pecked her on her flushed cheek, pulling her closer as he laid down, pulling her to lay beside him as he fell asleep for the night, but in the early morning when she awoke she was on her own once again, the sheets beside her as if no one had laid with her the night before._

xoxoxoxoxo

_The young prince's birth celebration came and went without circumstance. Very few were in attendance, but that did little to dispirit the prince, for the woman he had chased and lusted after had agreed to share his bed._

_He had been fairly certain that she had been on a plot for disastrous things since she requested his birthday wish to save any traitors to the crown, but he knew she could never be so deep in deception that he would not already know of her deeds, for he knew of every move she made with his obsession._

_And so he had been able to come to the realization that her wish was not for her but for someone she cared so deeply about. It did not surprise him when his elder sister Masaki escaped with Kirio's brother Isshin, nor did it truly bother him. He simply rose to the occasion, dodging questions about the two; when asked about their location he simply put it that they were "round somewhere" and would disperse the conversation onto the plans he had for the day and how the servants shouldn't worry themselves about things outside of their control. _

_The king, so wrapped up in his own duties, had little time to realize the disappearance. It wasn't until the third Sunday's family lunch under the weeping Sakura trees that he noticed something was awry. It was almost the end of the third month when he was infuriated enough to search out his daughter on his own. What he found left him confused and furious all at once, but unable to change what had occurred._

_xoxoxoxoxo_

_It didn't take long for the prince to formally introduce her to the court, showing her off at every chance he could. She was quickly accepted as a fixture at most family occurrences, the brown haired prince quick at her hip at all times. It became almost like she had taken the role of his wife, except for the peculiarities that only she knew of, and the official title bestowed upon her from said man._

_But she was his now, no one could deny that fact now._

_Her belly had grown swollen and heavy and she often found herself hugging the child within her womb despite the recklessness in the action. To many she was simply horridly ill, but to the Prince she was late with his child._

_The man made sure that none would know of the illegitimate child the girl carried, worried it might lose him the chance he had at the throne. Kirio understood that with Masaki defected from their dimension that he had the best chance, and had allowed him to what he would to protect himself, to protect the child within her._

_A long slash of a sword's edge was his motion against any that might hold it over him, leaving Kirio's early pregnancy crippling, forcing her to bed rest as the wound on her stomach healed enough for her to limp around._

_She had conceived their first time they had been intimate, and while she didn't exactly love the man as he loved her, the child within her was the brightest part of her life. She would protect the man with her life if it would save the child she bore._

_A soft smile passed her lips as she looked up from her reverie, thanking Yosei, the oldest prince, for the cup of tea he had poured her._

_xoxoxoxoxo_

_Kirio's heart was racing hurriedly as she escaped from the palace and their world much like how she had imagined Masaki and Isshin had._

_Her life had shattered before her eyes, and no one could save her from her fate. She would be damned to see her newborn daughter destroyed, however, so she dared the impossible to save her._

_A man stepped out of a black car a few blocks down, and the court guard member dedicated all her reserves to following him, knowing he would be able to help her find the house if nothing else. She followed at his heels, tracking and spotting him as she went. Rounding a corner onto a darker street, Kirio paused to tuck her child within the folds of her kimono, hoping that the rain would not touch the girl as she dove in and out of the torrential downpour. An arrow pulled taught on an unseen bow, and Kirio found herself crying out in fear as a man much larger than she was herself slammed her against the stone wall._

"_What business do you have hunting my acquaintance, Soul Reaper?"_

xoxoxoxoxo

_The look in her silver eyes had the white haired man sighing in exasperation. He knew he couldn't cut down the poor woman after the tale she had told him._

_The child did look like his friend's wife, the face and eyes were her mother's but there was an unearthly beauty that made the babe's soft cheeks glow and her hair shine under the gentle moonlight._

_Opening his car door for her, he watched as she struggled with herself and the decision to trust him, "Come on, I'll drive you to his house. Its at least better than risking the child's health."_

_Silently, she nodded, slipping into the seat softly, letting the artificial heat surround her deeply. The man joined her quickly and began turning the dials and adjusting the fans towards the middle and the passenger's seat._

"_Thank you for believing me. You have no reason to trust my tales." Her hair was plastered to her face and she found herself wringing out the edges of her clothes. _

"_Its rather hard not to believe knowing the history of my own people. It actually makes a lot more sense this way." The tall man extended his hand as he watched the woman wring the bell of her sleeves out with both hands over his previously clean car, "I'm Ryuuken Ishida, by the way. I'm the last of the Quincy."_

"_I'm Kirio Hikifune. And I'm not a soul reaper, at least not anymore. I'm not even certain if I can be considered a soul. Not now…"_

"_And her?" he nodded towards the child resting in the folds of her haori, "What have you named her?"_

_At that Kirio withdrew, looking out the down pouring window, as her arms tightened in defense of the child, "I haven't seen the point in naming what ought to be dead."_

_xoxoxoxoxo_

"_You said to kill any Shinigami on sight. I apologize if I was wrong in this assertion, but this one seemed to be keen on aiding her child, and I couldn't cut the head from a mother and her child so determined to get to your doorstep, calling out your name." Ryuuken stated as he nodded out of respect to his coworker. The woman had halted her malicious attempts at freedom upon sight of her brother and she began crying anew._

"_Isshin-sama, please! Help me!" she cried, clutching the child to her breast like she had the power to absorb the being back within her, "I've done something terrible! Please hide her- please save her!"_

_Isshin took the small baby from his strained sister and gazed down into the still baby's blank silver gaze and curly red hair that so resembled his wife's. It wasn't until the baby smiled that she began to look like his sister. He looked from mother to child helplessly, unsure of what path to take._

_Helping his baby sister could destroy the life he had created with Masaki here, and no matter how much he loved his baby sister, "Kirio, I-"_

"_If it must be I never lay eyes on her again, so be it! She must never return to soul society, they'll kill her. He he-he's killing me, I can't let him do the same to her! Please, brother, save her!"_

"_Isshin-anata?" a soft voice called as the front door opened. The two were disrupted when a woman with short wavy red hair stepped out onto the front porch. It was an instant acknowledgement between the two that Masaki held her husband's child on her hip, the boy had a similar sleepY look to his father and a small pout pushed his lips in a trembling way._

_Masaki looked between the two, pulling her son closer as if to protect him from the world, internally knowing that seeing the girl was no good news. "Neechan?"_

_Kirio couldn't break her gaze, looking from her child to her brother's longingly. In a healthy world these two would grow together, they would love. Perhaps one day would find a path in life that would bring them ecstasy. She wanted that, not only for the child in her arms but the child in Masaki's as well_

_Dropping her gaze from her family, Kirio shook her head, pulling her daughter even closer to her breast, "Gomen nasai, I should not have intruded on your peaceful life here. I will find another path to protect those I love."_

"_Kaaa~!"_

_Just as she turned to make her way a soft call made her hesitate and she glanced at the softly scrunched face of her daughter. The gaze was so serious that it made the woman smile, knowing she would have to make it somehow. And somehow she knew that her child was much too young _

"_What's her name, neechan?" Masaki's sweet voice carried on the wind, "My Ichigo seems to have a liking to his cousin. Perhaps I can hold her for a while, while you take care of whatever business has you so unkempt."_

_Pausing, Kirio smiled, feeling the deep relief wash over her at last. She knew that this house would help her protect her child. "I've been calling her Hime for some time but I haven't chosen a name for her yet."_

_Masaki handed her small son to his father and took the babe into her arms to gaze upon her in her entirety, "She is beautiful, so soft and pretty, but what a serious face. She so resembles me, Kirio…."_

_Glancing at the girl distrustfully for but a moment, realization settled upon her, "She's been caged since birth as well, has she not? You bloodied yourself and your hands getting her here, making me think you left under certain hostile discretion."_

_The golden haired woman smiled at the child then, brushing away a soft wayward lock as the girl latched onto it, a soft smile catching at the corners of her eyes. "You love silky things, don't you my little Ori~hime?"_

_**Xoxoxoxoxo**_

_**Yaaaaayyy. End chapter. Any opinions?**_

_**Was inspired by the literally breakdowns of Orihime's name. In shortened terms it's a literary connection to the weaver woman tale, a Japanese myth, but it also translates to Caged Princess, Ori meaning cage or entrapment, and Hime of course meaning Princess.**_

_**I know I must be killing some of you by intentionally not giving the Prince's name, but at this point I want it to be a guessing game. I hope you're all inspired to inquire about a great many things in this chapter. I try to answer all questions.**_

_**Either way read and review. Cookies for Sarra makes her write.**_

_**Love and Kisses.**_


	5. I am the Living Dead

_**"I am the living dead, you are the opposite.**_

_**We're like fire and ice only one can survive.**_

_**My will's departed**_

_**Light is in your eyes reaching to mine**_

_**I am A valley of bones covered in stone**_

_**Nothing more than human**_

_**Into the unknown body and soul**_

_**You're calling me cause only with you the **_

_**Dead come to life, dead come to life**_

_**Only with you the dead come to life,**_

_**Dead come to life"**_

_**oxo**_

Frozen, Orihime began to shake. He was everywhere... everywhere... There was no escaping him, ever, the shadow of her tormentor.

Her pace grew as she tried desperately to put distance between herself and the illusion. As she began to full on run, Orihime whipped her umbrella into an abandoned alley, the

This wasn't the first time she had seen him, looming in the corners of her vision. He had come to her now for weeks, perhaps first dating when she had woken up shortly after the winter war, broken but still healing. She had woken and had a start when she had felt him nearby, crying out and falling into hysteria when she thought that her friends were in fact all dead.

In the weeks that followed, she had seen an increasing amount of influential illusions: claws scratching at her and upon searching her flesh she found welts in their wake, bruises where hands had grabbed her in order to halt her escape by her shoulder and her arms, and of course, his haunting whispers that kept her wide awake at night, praying for sunlight when his presence was banned to the darkened shadows and she could bask in the sun to avoid the dark.

Half a sprint away from the alley way she had last seen him, Orihime let out a vanquished cry as something grabbed hold of her bicep, tugging her backwards toward her unknown assailant. Her legs gave out, her knees crumpling beneath her as they folded together, her hands skidding before her to stop her decent.

"ORIHIME!" The voice cried, and she felt the warmth of hands grasp her at her shoulders. Her head lolled back, and through the soft downpour she could make out very familiar face.

"Ta-tatsuki?" Behind her loomed another worried face but it was too far away to make it out. As it were, the young woman felt lucky enough that her assailant had been her best girl friend, and as she let her eyes fall for an instant, she felt regret for running, for having the poor girl chase her. It must look like she was avoiding her, even abandoning her umbrella near a trashcan in order to gain more speed.

But of course she could never dream of beating the girl at a race- she was a track star, and an award winning martial arts master. The raven haired girl had gifts Orihime only wished she could have been granted.

Leaning forward, Tatsuki wrapped her tan arms around the soaked girl, expertly grounding herself before hefting her bustier friend off the asphalt. Orihime could feel the way she quaked in her strong arms, and looking over her shoulder, her wide eyes those of her tormentor, a soft smile playing at his lips before he fell to pieces the wind blew away, gone from this place.

"Come on, Sado. Help me get her back to her apartment."

Ah so that was who the other figure had been. She should have known. The two of them had been rather chummy as of late. Another set of arms slid beneath her legs, scooping her up so that the muscular man could just carry her solo, letting Tatsuki take the lead, walking down the path she had committed to memory.

Their presence in her home had been minimal. Shaking still from the cold and the monster haunting her, Orihime had offered them tea, dinner, anything that might make them stay. Only a polite cup of tea they accepted, wary eyes judging her, weighing her weakness.

After it became acceptable that their assessment of her strength, they excused themselves softly, telling her that they would see her on Monday, a whole weekend away.

As the door shut with a finality that rang deep into her soul, Orihime began to shudder a bath was in order to warm her body up at least...

_**oxo**_

Few worlds ever cross each others paths. Truly, think about it. What amount of luck did it take that the universe would string along this amount of coincidences, just to make a point in the end. That's what she liked to call fate. No amount of chance could have brought the two of them together, she was certain it had been destiny.

Her love was enough to shift worlds, his wrath enough to shake them. And despite how he rebuked the existence and strength of her heart, he had witnessed and accepted it in the end, hadn't he? It had been because of her efforts that he had, perhaps, found his own.

He was, she was loathe to admit, the most inappropriate man to let herself fall for, to want and long for after the near impenetrable walls she had built around her love for Ichigo began to crumble, the act that he himself had implemented with his dark mind-twisting tactics, but Ulquiorra had done it, and quite successfully. That was in fact what had tortured her most since she had returned, his horrid words echoing in her mind, over and over, making her accept her worthlessness.

She had turned to no one in her return, but inward on a memory alone to bring her comfort after his hand had turned to ash in her own, finally finding his own emotions. Not that she wouldn't have turned to anyone that would have offered her a shoulder to cry on. It was just obvious that everyone was still too involved dealing with their own shit to even really notice there was something this drastically wrong with her.

Her eyes drifted closed as she settled into the warm pool around her, reveling in the softest caress of his lips that her mind could fathom. It was half in her mind that this was an illusion, but one she welcomed with open arms. She had so isolated herself from the everyone she loved now, all she had was her memories and illusions to keep her company.

_"Do not show her any kindness. She is so beneath us, she should only be meant to use. Do not let her think that Lord Aizen has made her a place among us- She will never be one of us. Do not let her forget that." Nnoitra had brought her the majority of her misery in Hueco Mundo. The man had went out of his way to abuse her and to spark others fury of her._

_It was by his insistence, she was sure, that Menoly and Loly had attacked her._

_But she hadn't tried to be one of them. She never had wanted to become one with the hollows. Despite how Aizen had tried to give her a place among them, close for his use of her, she knew she belonged to the world of the living, and not of the damned. For that, she was thankful for Nnoitra and his distasteful nature towards her. He had made her choices easy, kept her mind clear who was friend and who was foe._

_Ulquiorra though... he blurred her lines all over the place. He made her long to be one of them, not because it was her place in life, but for him. He must have been dreadfully lonely in his stone tower, she knew, and her brief presence must have affected him some how, she knew. She had changed him for ever, in fact, as she was the ultimate ._

She could feel him everywhere these days. Some days, it drew her to crippling fear. Others, ecstatic joy. There was no where she was alone, not since she had taken that damned bracelet and slid it into place. That too, she had quickly come to terms with, was also now a part of her- she had yet to be able to take it off since putting it on, and for months now had hidden it well by accompanying it with others of a similar nature. Only Ichigo had noticed, but she was fairly sure the boy naively thought it was simply her way of coping, to have something tangible to tie all of the past half a years tragic events together.

Everywhere and anywhere she had seen him, always reaching out to her for help. The bath was her usual catalyst, perhaps the worst in fact, and the only conclusion she could come to was that the sterile smell of soap brought out her memories of the cold, white walls of Las Noches, or perhaps the water touched her deeper than anything else.

Opening her silver eyes, she could see the illusion for what it was; hovering above her, her hollow retainer in the air like he might have been floating in a lake, his hair an ebony wave stirring around him like a seaweed halo.

Closing her eyes shut tight again, Orihime refused to let the vision have its way with her as it had every other night- she was stronger than this. The softness turned to a cold sensation against her lips- and damn if she didn't fall hard into it, opening her small pout to breath in her desperate attempt at reviving the dead.

"Is this where your heart beats, Orihime Inoue, or did I teach you to keep it in a safer place...?" Something cool passed over her left breast and into the clavicle where it delved deeper, freezing her. Against her will, she gasped, surging forward and her breast prickled up and her heart tightened.

Shifting from the water, Orihime wrenched herself from the illusion that bent her to its unseen wants, slipping carelessly from the tub and sending droplets all over the bath rug as she reached for her towel as and after thought. Her legs were trembling, and her hand shot to the pedestal sink as she sank to sit on the bathtub rim.

Taking a deep breath, Orihime prepared herself for another shot in the dark. She had to be rid of him somehow, anyway she could. She was free now from Hueco Mundo and Las Noches and the horrible Hollows that lived there, wasn't she worthy enough of some peace after what she had gone through?

Looking down, Orihime seized the bracelet that had started the whole damn thing, the only thing that she could remove from her person to be rid of Las Noches, and ultimately Ulquiorra. The cool cuff around her wrist had bound him to her once, hadn't it? Perhaps, time itself must have woven their connection between them, this palpable and emotionally crippling recollection of a relationship, and her hallucinations were simply the projections of his spirit, and not the insane wantings of a young woman experiencing an odd case of Stockholm Syndrome.

A sigh escaped her. How dumb could she be? Trying to reverse death was an act of God-like magnitude, a power even she wasn't naive enough to believe herself worthy of, even if it did appear that she was gifted it. Orihime dejectedly dried herself off. Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror, she saw the shaken, small girl blearily staring back at her, pale flesh gleaming in the pale light. Turning from her own knowing visage, Orihime touched at the burning sensation in her eyes, before wrenching the bracelet angrily down her arm again.

The motion caught as the bracelet hit her wrist, the cool metal tightening painfully and biting into the fleshy skin of her fore-thumb which she had tried to tuck in as closely as possible. Loosening her grip, she tried another angle, letting loose a shriek of irritation as it failed once more before going at it again and again, wrangling her wrist as she tried prying it around her hand.

A soft, hesitant knocking startled her into letting go of the immovable wristband. Orihime decided to ignore it, and returned to pulling at the cuff itself, hoping she could perhaps miss form it enough to get it off.. The knocking became a repetitious banging as her thumb began wiggling towards freedom, startling her into abandoning her mission. Slipping on her bathrobe, Orihime went to the front door to see what was the matter, her quick pace sending a soft spray of water off of her exposed skin.

Opening the front door with a swiftness to knock out any intruder, she stood shocked in the doorway, no one in the threshold to receive her agitation. _But surely, _she thought_, someone had been at the door..._

Orihime shook away the off feeling settling in her stomach, taking extra care to set the deadbolt and the safety lock chain above it before moving away to go back inside her apartment. Turning, a short shriek escaped her before she tripped back against the door slamming the back of her head into the steel door, not believing her eyes for a second. A cry ripped out of her breast, and she began to choke on her breath. There, in her living room, stood a dripping wet Ulquiorra Cifer, shirtless as he had been in that final battle, his hand pulling dripping hair out of his face as he looked at her like he had always belonged there.

"Uoo-Uool-Ulquiorra-aa?" her voice trembled as she took him in entirely, like a visage of the dead and damned, he stood there in all his glory, exactly as he was before he turned to dust. Well, perhaps not _**exactly**_ as he had been; gone was the hole in his clavicle that had marked him as a hollow, as were the lines that ran down his face from his eyes. The four tattoo on his chest was now a burn scar on his pectoral as well, easily unnoticeable on his pale flesh, and without the mask his hair fell into his face much easier, making him look much more youthful than she had initially marked him out to be.

"Why do you torment me so? GO AWAY! Go away..."

He didn't answer her vocally, but his presence cried out in answer an unasked questions- he was really, truly there- surely he was palpable this time. Reaching out, Orihime hand swept through his course black hair physically, his hair curling around her fingers, "You're...you're _real_, this time"

Before she could stop herself, Orihime had thrown herself at the man, wrapping her arms as tightly around his neck. Remiss of everything he had done to hurt her mentally, she would never wish his death on anyone, and his return brought her significant happiness.

She could feel the momentary stiffness in his chest as his entire being tightened. He seemed to want to take a step from her- he didn't want her to touch him- but she persistently pursued him, not really caring for his feelings, only reveling in the overwhelming sensation of relief in her chest. Relaxing, if only minutely, he wrapped his arms around her thin waist, pulling her closer as his hand palmed her hair gently. She realized that there were tears in her eyes that fell to mingle with the rain on his chest and the wetness of his chest seeped quickly into her robe, but the thin woman could barely care. He was here, he was alive...

His hand stroked up her silk-covered sleeve to her wrist. Seizing the cold metal ring with his middle and forefinger, he drew it in front of the two, dangling it between them questioningly as he watched her for an answer.

Suddenly, she felt altogether childish, holding on to such a relic of the past when her affection for him was surely one sided. Pulling her arm from him, she wrapped her arms around her chest as she distanced herself from him. "I had to keep something of you. Something to remember that you really existed, that I wasn't going crazy! Everyone's acting like the Winter War never happened, and I just can't stand it!"

He continued to stare at her with those eyes she couldn't learn to hate. Those eyes burned her, and she couldn't take it anymore, pulling away from him and moving away as far as she could muster her heart to allow. In a moment of weakness, she turned back to gaze at him, having only escaped about three paces, and froze as her eyes met his brilliantly green ones.

It dawned on her what the look in his eyes said. He was confused deeply, and moving on a tidal wave of emotion, drew the girl back to his chest, his arm holding her with a force of urgency she had never experienced before There was only a momentary hesitation that drew her a breath away before she came back against him, kissing him fiercely, like this one kiss was all she could hope for, and that in it she could convince him to do the unthinkable and live, live for her.

They parted trembling, their lips still pressed lightly against each other as their foreheads met, noses bridged across each other. Orihime's eyes shut, refusing to acknowledge this dream. She wanted this to be real, more so perhaps than she had wanted freedom from Hueco Mundo.

"You..You kept my heart..." The tremor in the hollow's voice had her eyes open wide, searching for a chink that would destroy her dreams. His hand trembled as his long fingers held the ring delicately between them, endearingly.

Choking on a soft laugh, Orihime smiled, nodding quickly, her hand coming up to rub away the tears in her eyes. "Of course, I did...You entrusted it to me..."

And slowly, so small she swore she had misread it, a smile passed over his thin black lips, as his arms pulled her back against his chest, his hand cradling her hair, "Thank you...Orihime..."

_**oxo**_

_**"I am a foreigner, caught in the crossfire **_

_**I am paralyzed by the battle cries. Can you, Hear it?**_

_**Light is in your eyes reaching to mine**_

_**I am A valley of bones covered in stone**_

_**Nothing more than human**_

_**Into the unknown body and soul**_

_**You're calling me cause only with you the **_

_**Dead come to life, dead come to life**_

_**Only with you the dead come to life,**_

_**Dead come to life"**_

_**_**oxo**_**_

Breaking and entering always had been her specialty. Having lived in Rukon and survived, she had honed many skills that the Seireitei had condemned, including her over indulgent love for sneaking under the watchful eyes of those that were meant to keep her from her goals.

Despite being bound beyond to the point of uselessness, he smiled, as his sense of smell and hearing could tell him enough of the intruder in his prison. The trace on the wind sang of old parchment and the starch of fresh dumplings as well as a feminine swell of lavender and rose-hips. He didn't need his hearing to recognize that signature scent, and it left him anticipating the woman's arrival.

The prisoner's head raised, hearing the softness of bells chiming in the wind. Though he could not see the intruder with the bands that held him in his place, he could here her, could sense her presence before she surged forth out of the ventilation pipes, falling daintily before him in a crouch, her right knee bent and hovering over the cold marble before raising with a grace he only could describe a few people as having.

He knew without a doubt who she was without sight or sound. That was how well he knew her, and what made her what and who she was. After all, who else would break into his prison to see him?

An unseen smile played at his lips as he called out into his own personal darkness. "Kirio Hikifune. What an honor you do me, visiting me here. You must forgive the mess, had I known you were coming I would have had the place cleaned up a bit. After all, you're sure to have kept that impeccable taste I left you with; I'm sure you still desire the finer things in life..."

As she stood, her haori that hung loosely over her shoulders fell open, revealing no zanpakuto at her side, but a sash wound around her waist flopped loosely at her hip. She had abandoned all but what she had needed for this trip. _'You left me with many things, but none more than my need to keep this distance, Sousuke... But I must know...'_

Sensing no response coming from her, or knowing perhaps it was a mute thing that she must be trying to press on him, to show him her agitation, he moved along, happily chatting her up just to agitate her, to draw out any response at all from her. He had spent too much of his life in this silence. "You must tell me, Kirio- does that ring still adorn your hand or have you abandoned it along with me?"

No answer fell from her lips. She simply watched him with those judging eyes of hers, searching him for answers to questions she dared not ask. Turning the subject had always been a skill of his, and Kirio foresaw the conversation turning her faster then it did. After all, he knew bland insinuations wouldn't get her attention- they never had. The subject, however, had her in shock. "No matter. How fares our daughter then? Surely she will loosen your lips. She always was the catalyst between us after your dear captain fled with Masaki."

Pulling the red violet silk around her to fight off the chill, Kirio shivered audibly. She felt like the life was seeping out of her pores, leaving her frozen. _Perhaps a ward against Sousuke's strength... _Aizen heard it and smiled widely, glad to have some response from the woman he had once loved more than his own life. "Is it that cold in here? I hadn't noticed. Perhaps, you should come closer now to me, so you can warm yourself...?"

He felt her approach, expecting her ire. What he received had him gasping, as her hands captured the bands around his head, her strong, shapely legs coming to straddle his thin thighs, the force of her strength warping the metal binding him to the chair. Her breathing seized him, the chest heaving against his worrying him as she panted like she had run all the way here across oceans to get back to him. The idea pleased him, but he knew it couldn't be true, even if he did like to fancy it. As Kirio wrenched the device from around his eyes, he let the golden orbs wander her flesh. In her shihakusho, she filled it out in ways he didn't remember. Perhaps he had put her memory on the furthest burner he could. Perhaps, he had darkened her image so much that it didn't hurt him so to think of her betrayal, but here, in the darkness of his imprisonment, he longed to hold her to him and forgive her for her every step against him. At the very least, his wife should press her lips against his forehead the way she used to. Instead, she leaned her head against his, the bridge of her nose pressed against his and her lips only a breath away. "Why, Sousuke, why have you brought yourself to such a dreadful place."

Taken aback, Aizen's eyes closed with abandon; he had never heard her tone take on such a defeated tremor, pain obvious in the way it was whispered from her soft, lovely lips. "I did it to return to you, you must know that, Kirio. After my father abandoned me to this world, I knew of no other way to be allowed back into the Spirit Realm. I had to obtain greatness to rival the King, to impress him or overtake him, and it was exactly what I have done."

"You must understand that our King works on the theory that you ought to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You do not see me as a friend, only an enemy, because you too became a threat to him and he convinced you otherwise of his innocence." Tired eyes opening again, he took in his fill of her as if this would be the last he would see of anything, as if death would be more welcoming after he had had the last bit of her. As his gaze continued to follow the gorgeous woman, he lowered his glance to his still bound hands and admitted groggily, "I have no understanding yet how he does this, but can only assume whatever it is has similar qualities to my Kyōka Suigetsu, being he is still my father."

Pulling away her eyes widened slowly, "Then you never intended on taking the throne you were simply-"

"Watching, yes. Watching and waiting to see how my young cousin progressed. He is the perfect culmination of hollow, human, shinigami, quincy and god. Those that gain power for themselves become drunk on it, those for others a martyr for a cause. I always thought of myself as the savior of masses, the man to bring the heard away from otherwise slaughter."

A small smile passed Kirio's lips, as she turned her face away from him, hoping he hadn't caught it. She had begun to feel like she was passing into a hangover, and didn't like the way her husband was smiling at her knowingly. Dizzily she shook her head to clear her mind, but the damage was already done, "You always liked playing the hero..."

"It's a quality, I fear, our entire family suffers from. I suppose it makes us the best leaders, willing to die for our cause." Seeing how distant she had become suddenly, Aizen couldn't help but wish to close the distance she had placed between them. He felt, perhaps, guilty that, as her estranged father, he had still spent more time in the presence of their offspring. "You've yet to see the woman our daughter has become. She is magnificent, Kirio. She would do you proud."

The air between them became sweltering as her hands batted at the water seeping from her sapphire eyes. "I could show her to you if you'd like...Even in here, I've kept a close eye on them both. Tried, as much as I could to keep them safe."

No response was needed from the woman he held in higher regard than any other living creature. . She accepted the unspoken offer as his fingers twitched, trying to summon a hell butterfly. Kirio made short work breaking the binds that crossed over his torso, freeing his arms so he might hold her face and transfer what he may directly to her. Large hands cradled her face, so close to his yet not close enough, Her soft hand hovered over his before closing it tight in her grasp, her eyelids fluttering shut as her lips parted, trembling as she took in the visions the prisoner gave to her so willingly.

"She..reversed the effects of death?" Kirio whispered hoarsely, her lips so softly letting the words spill forth that even she was unsure she had uttered them. "How is that possible? From such a small amount of spiritual pressure no less! Even I never considered this a possibility, and I was able to create new souls..."

Turning towards Aizen, Kirio quickly adverted her eyes, "I apologize Sousuke-sama. I do suppose that you must have thought of this before. Was this why you assigned her care to him? Because out of all of them, he was most worthy of redemption? I never would have took-"

"No. " he curtly cut her off, ignoring the way the woman seemed to startle at his soft voice. "Ulquiorra simply represented everything I believed made him the greatest of the Espada, the strongest, but he never looked to overthrow or climb the ranks. His demeanor made me think he was above acting out, disturbing the peace I had sought to establish. And before her soul affected him, I was correct."

"She must have affected him in that fight with Ichigo. In order to hold her own against his second release, her reitsu would have naturally lashed out at his, regardless of her command, she didn't submit to the despair. I should put him out of his misery, lest he decide to bite at the one holding his leash..."

Pulling from him, Aizen couldn't help but revel in her sudden change, the spiritual pressure that increased and licked painfully at his unprepared flesh. Standing before him, Kirio looked again like the youthful girl that had irked him and sparked the curious fire that led to his exile. Her bright green eyes blazed defiantly up at him, "I will not let you destroy our daughters happiness. I did not allow it when she was my babe, and I will not let it happen now!"

Something passed her eyes then, making her unable to see. Dizzy, she staggered forward suddenly, faster than Sousuke could sense happening, and she took a sharp plummeting pitch towards the ground, her legs twisting as they gave out beneath her and her head lolled as it rebounded and snapped back against the ground with and audible crack. "Kirio!"

On the dirt floor, she was broken- blearily still awake. Everything shifted harshly and she was even more nauseated than when she had first noticed the dizziness or when she had stood against the prince. Trying to get up, she found her body no longer took orders of her own, and not even a finger budged. "Sou-suuu-kaay... I-I-I.."

Nothing could bind him to the spot with her crying for him the way he had. He thrashed against his leg imprisonments, breaking the bands away just enough to rip his flesh from their magic, leaving long, burning marks on his flesh the pulsed blood out. Coming to his knees, his legs cried out from disuse, but forced himself forward until he had her in his arms safe and sound where he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Despite every betrayal, she was still his, forever and always.

Breathing was becoming difficult now, and all her senses had failed her, but she felt could still feel him, always she felt when he was near, and his hands were on her, lifting her up, regardless of the alarms that must have been going off alerting his captors.

Safely tucked against him, her eyes fluttered then, hiding the lovely blue from him. He began to panic now; despite there being no blood saturating her skull yet, he knew there must be some traumatic damage to cause her blackout.

He heard them coming down the hall, and his reitsu flared instinctively to protect them both. He would willingly offer the woman up to those coming regardless to get her the help, but instinct told him they meant him harm, and by that means, would harm her in the process.

And in that moment, Aizen felt hers rise as well in response to his, tentative and soft as it brushed against his soul's strength, flickering like a candle's flame. Slackening the hold he had around her torso, she slid so that she rested against him, and could see the momentary flux in her form, a change in consciousness as well as physical conditions.

As the door opened, Aizen had moved to stand against the wall, watching in awe-struck horror as a swat-like team burst in, quickly seizing her up and dragging her out.

And then suddenly, he was alone again in his cold cell with only his thoughts to ponder, the cameras all pointed at him like he was supposed to do a trick of sorts that they would later study the intentions of. Oh, he was going to show them a trick alright, one that they would be sure never to forget.

His eyes drifted shut, as he pulled his spiritual centers inward, so that an infant might have been able to defeat him if they could get their hands on him, and he threw his every attention to what had just occurred in his cell, and pondered the realistic threat of it all.

_**oxo**_

_**"We are the dry and thirsty sand**_

_**Upon this dry and thirsty land**_

_**But you speak life into the flesh**_

_**Breathing air into the dead."**_

_**_**oxo**_**_

With a agitated growl Grimmjow slammed his fist into the plaster wall, irritation obvious in his form to anyone that might have paid him any attention. He had taken up this position of guardian after another long argument from Urahara had drove him from the house. She had seemed... distressed... on the few occasions he had seen her. And regardless of her seemingly close relationship among the group of rebels that infiltrated his home and cut through an army worth of hollows to rescue her, none of them had stepped forward to help her obvious depression, or had even noticed the way she looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.

Urahara had promised him that someone was looking into it, but she hadn't gotten better yet, had she? He... missed... the sweet, bubbly girl that had defied him, defied Aizen and his world dominating plans. Surely someone should be watching out for her now.

Against better judgement, he had taken on the role of watch cat in her hallway that night, and every night since. He had heard her cries, her screams in the dark, and every one broke him in a way that no other mortal could ever hope to. He had finally felt moved enough to approach her himself. He talked himself up enough to ask to come in, to ask if he might have a place in her life besides the unknown hero dodging behind darkened alleyways and watching her from the next street over which is where he lived now, far from the brightness of her smile.

Regretfully, he had chickened out at the last minute when he heard her hurried pace closing in on the door, dodging behind the corner just as the door swung open violently_. 'Perhaps tonight wasn't the best time to approach her_,' he thought, running his long fingers through his aqua hair. There was still a predatory movement to him, regardless of how he tried to assimilate into the human world, and his presence in her hallway had driven the occupants of the floor to hurry away like worthless cockroaches.

An elderly woman had earned herself a snarl, when she had ignorantly stared a little too long at the brightness of his hair with a look of judgement in her eyes, or perhaps because such a thug-like man should be sulking outside dear Orihime's home- he wasn't sure which, and the scurrying old hag dropped her grocery bag in her urgency before him like an offering.

Nothing else to do, the man pulled the bag closer, grumpily exploring the contents- a bag of potatoes, an onion, and flour. Leaning his agitated head back , he decided that anywhere but here was good to be, close enough to hear an anguished cry Orihime gave and the thump of her throwing herself against the doorway, but too far and unwanted to help her.

Standing, Grimmjow sulked out of the apartment building, his destination Urahara's shop the block over. His trip took him all of maybe 5 minutes as he had to wait for the damn crosswalk to wave him through, and he entered the shop without any other interference. Taking a right out of the back room, he came upon the kitchen, and immediately set a pot to boil before he turned and began taking his aggression out on the potatoes and onion with a sharp blade he yanked from the knife block.

Tessai could deal with his mess later. He needed this now.

_**oxo**_

_**Author's note: I know... I KNOWWWWW... You're not seeing t**__**hings, it really IS an update!**_

_**It's been forever and a half since I updated ANYTHING! I don't want to make too many excuses, but it comes down to several factors in my life that I just didn't feel like writing. The three largest, being that I got a full time job I moved across state twice, and am still going to school. Trying to juggle writing in all of that is hard enough, but its not the only factor in play here, either. As I'm sure a lot of authors do, I had probably 4 more chapters written and were in my editing stages. During the first move, I lost everything off of my hard drive which got wiped. This was upsetting enough, as pretty much every draft I made after that just didn't compare good enough. Add then, to the fact that I began writing this before Juha Bach, during the hiatus BEFORE Tsukashima (Shortly after the Kurakura arc) I ultimately found myself changing major things about my characters. You might revert back to the prior chapters to see my version of Kirio had green hair, like Karin, and I knew nothing about the Quincy line, but had a theory that sort of involved it.**_

_**I've decided to revamp my story to hold true character descriptions, so **__Perhaps __**after this chapter loads, I'll start working on the next move in this story, as well as going back and fixing what has happened so far. This is no longer canon. But it holds theories I still have.**_

_**I'll try to keep up with it again. I missed this. I greatly enjoyed pulling this out again.**_

_**Until next time, JA NE**_

_**PS take the extra long chappie as an apology, and a promise that I will be at least TRYING to move my stories towards completion that other wise look abandoned.**_

_**Also, all rights to the "DEAD COME TO LIFE" lyrics sprinkled through the story belong to JONATHAN THULIN and his publishing group. I own neither the music nor bleach**_

_**~*~ T A O - R I -~*~**_


	6. The Lost Prince

Swallowing his pride, Ichigo opened the shoji door and invited himself if awkwardly. He had been told that this was what he was expected to do when entering a room, to simply take what he desired to and then, if something should require it though it was doubtful, apologize. Never ask permission, only forgiveness. He was already breaking that even being here, however, but the pit in his stomach wouldn't let him simply seize what he wanted. Not this.

The door opened easily enough and soundlessly; well oiled, it glided into the wall that housed it leaving the entire room open to the outside elements. A breeze drifted cherry blossom petals across the highly glossed wood planks, and settled idly around the man he sought out. A few of the delicate leaves fell across his paperwork, alerting him of the intruder's presence, and Byakuya lifted his face to catch golden eyes with slight irritation. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He had expected another impudent, unseated member of his squad bursting in like that like they owned the place, wanting this or that or, more deplorably, to express interest in the identity of the revealed prince. Renji he had broken in finally, at least he knocked now. Well, sort of. The red-head often got too excited and in those brief moments he often reverted to the unpolished buffoon he had become famous for being,

"So you're the lost prince everyone's talking about... You must forgive me, Kurosaki-_**sama**_, I have enough work at the moment that cannot be interrupted by your mere presence."

Ichigo didn't budge, stubbornly standing in his doorway, his hands clasped before him as he held a rather large book. At least he wasn't idle. Regardless of the circumstances that had brought the boy back to the Sereitei after losing his powers, he seemed to at least be trying to close the distance with the position he would supposedly someday assume. Setting the glass pen he had been handling on its rest, the elder man leaned into an open palm as he measured the boy's worth. His gaze was unwavering now, authoritative. In the Ryoka, Byakuya had seen weakness and his sister's strength burning the edges of his soul. But this, this was all of Ichigo, his strength and will shining alone before him. The noble recognized that fire, knew it could only burn hotter, not ever going out.

With a soft sigh, Captain Kuchiki waved his hand to the seat before him meant to seat Renji at the desk, "You might as well sit, you obviously have something you wish to discuss with me."

Nodding, the boy approached silently, kicking the seat out in a fashion he rather disliked, his foot catching the rail underneath and dragging it across the floor before settling before him.

He could only watch and observe where the boy would take this, but the orange-haired man seemed unwilling to go any further, his eyes caste downward in deep though.

"This is the point," the captain began broodingly as he leaned back in his seat, obvious aggravation setting into his frame, "that you say something entirely insane and totally uncalls for barging in here in the manner you did. Take for instance, _**'I would like your daughter's hand in marriage'-**_"

"I do!" Ichigo erupted, his eyes wide as he leaned forward on the edge of his seat. The noble's grey orbs widened in shock, "I mean, I would like to marry your sister. I was told that I would have to take a noble bride, and well-"

"No."

The answer shocked him into silence. Ichigo's eyes shut, at war with himself. He knew what he would do, what he must, if he would have the girl indefinitely. He didn't think it would come to this, however; Byakuya Kuchiki seemed like a man that would appreciate the traditional path, would respect the man that came straight to him first rather than the spoiled boy that cried and got his way in the end. But if that was how he wanted to play, Ichigo had no problem pushing the issue. "That's not really your decision to make, though, is it. I know enough of the laws to know I can demand her. It's my birthright, and your obligation."

The fire burned hotter, scorching the edges of his soul again. If he were to stare at the unhindered soul within the boy, Kuchiki was certain he would be witnessing the brilliance of a burning star. "The only one that can refuse me, that I will allow, is Rukia herself."

He got up, dissatisfied with the way things had turned out, and showed himself out with dignity. He only hesitated momentarily as he heard Byakuya's voice cut through him.

"Do you love her?" he called softly. Ichigo hesitated in the doorway, his hand pulling the shoji gently shut as it was before he came in, halfway open so that the air could come in with no light, "You must know you're not the only one that wants her. If you do not love her, do not drag her into this. We both know that she deserves the world, eternal happiness. If you cannot give her that, abandon this quest now."

_**"She is the one that changed me. For better or worse, it has always been her at my side, and it always shall be."**_

_**XOX**_

Orihime opened her eyes blearily, glancing at the alarm clock that marked the time as two am; the rain outside had stopped, but she could still hear the run off in the gutters, the wetness clinging to everything outside. The smell reminded her of her time in Hueco Mundo, the only smell other than the individual hollows- it seemed to seep into her very soul.

With a sigh, Orihime rolled to where Ulquiorra had slid in beside her, only to find the bed empty once more, the entire right side made the way she had done it yesterday morning.

With a sigh of frustration, the young woman covered her face with her pillow, screaming out into it. Why did this always happen to her?

Wasn't it enough that she lived through Las Noches? Did she have to project her own illusions to further torture herself? Shaking away the feeling of dread, she pulled herself off the futon, and began getting ready for her morning at the bakery.

_**XOX**_

Often times since Isshin left her, Kirio found herself waking up in this man's arms, the strong arms of the young prince holding at the child growing within her.

It was not the first she conceived, but she would be certain that this one would be seen into this world. She didn't love him, but here in his embrace, she could pretend to; even if there was no love returned, she still cared for him.

"Stay here, love. Be safe." His lips pressed against her pale face, his hand cradling her crown softly as the curls wove their violent waves around his long fingers. Her eyes fluttered shut as she nodded her concordance, settling into his arms with a sigh. "I will protect you here."

How could she refuse him, when his affection was so sincere? At first, accepting this... whatever they were to each other… was difficult for her. She had allowed people to lie with her in Rukon to survive, but here... it wasn't expected of her, nor was it acceptable. She risked a lot not to disturb the peaceful rut they had set for themselves.

His hands trailed the scars across her back, and she recalled the cause of each. The one from the baker's wife whom had caught her red handed in their kitchen as she stole a week's worth of food... the whip marks from the armed guard that Masaki and Isshin had saved her from.. He always avoided the one that ran over her stomach, the one she never wanted to explain. She doubted that he knew what it was anyway, most didn't; if he pressed it, she could easily lie to him about the story it told. But every time his eyes met hers as his warm, probing fingers massaged the rounded flesh beside it, he quickly abandoned the subject. Every luscious curve of her flesh was his, save for this four inch cicatrice that she would carry with her always and forever, the darkest mark that her soul carried.

As he brushed a new one, his digits running languidly against the uneven flesh, she closed her eyes, the feeling invoking a flood of memories that she vocalized, "We were running from a clerk. Isshin dropped down a gutter line and told me to jump to him. As I stepped off the roof, the man perusing me caught me in the back with a kyoketsu-shoge. It sheared up my back into my ribs and took Isshin an entire month to pay off the doctor that helped him seal me back up. I couldn't barely breathe for weeks- it pierced my right lung."

Sousuke began brushing through her hair with his fingers, humming a lullaby that she was unsure was meant to soothe her or their unborn babe, which had begun to kick recently, keeping her awake late at night. Letting her lids drift shut, Kirio settled down for the night, nowhere to flee to and no will to go even if she did.

_**XOX**_

Rukia was frozen, trembling in the face of the unknown. Marrying a prince, she was sure, was most girls' dream, but she wanted nothing to do with this fairy tale ending.

Regardless of her feelings, her brother had accepted the guard into their own; he was letting them seize possession of her without lifting a finger against them. She had been so certain that he would resist this, would protect her- that Renji wouldn't end up propelled to take on a death mission to free her.

So here she sat, pale and nervous as her hair was tamed in a way she could never achieve on her own, brushing out the unruly bun she twisted her ebony locks into day after day like a tomboy and delicately arranging to form around a comb set and pins. One of the guards, a woman, was relentless with the makeup and perfumes, and the smell of it gagged her between onslaughts of primping.

Perhaps this wasn't so bad. She might be blindly looking at this. At least now her brother didn't have to worry about her hurting herself. She could allow herself children- she had always loved children, and they could be hers.

But Renji would be left devastated. She was sure those babies had always been his in his dreams, and the declaration of last night had him obviously broken and shattered.

No, this had to be the worst day of her life so far. She felt like a sacrificial lamb, she looked like a whore. They had tied her into a kimono she could barely breath in, and the tightness left her weak and dainty, and the layers, though gorgeous, were nothing she wanted to do with. She was losing her family and her friends and getting dragged into a loveless marriage because she had to…Because _**he **_chose her. Wasn't that what courtiers were for?

She could refuse, she should fight, but with every stroke, every taming pull, she felt like she was losing herself behind the image of a docile porcelain doll, wide eyes staring back resentfully at herself.

"It's time, Lady Kuchiki..."

And all at once, she lost all of her will, all of her hopes and dreams, and all at once, her world crumbled at her feet as she was forced out of her home without a second to grieve all that had been destroyed.

_**XOX**_

Dawn had come far too soon for his liking. Rising from bed was difficult enough on his own without the gorgeous minx carrying his baby wrapped around him. He quickly realized that he had been neglectful again to draw the blinds and knew too soon after he left that she would soon wake as well. Dressing as quickly as possible, he tried to force himself along despite the urge to crawl back into bed with her as she rolled towards the empty mattress, her arms searching for him, "Isshin... anata..."

The sound of her voice broke every resolution he had made, enraging him as she softly sighed, taking against her a pillow as she snuggled against it. He wanted so badly to drag her from her slumber, to punish her. How dare she say_** his **_name in their bed. It took everything in him not to break her then and there, to show her who was then center of her universe on which all things pivoted. Turning, he marched himself out of the room before he did the unthinkable, if not for her, but the child of his she carried.

_**XOX**_

The door cracked open with a rapt noise, and Byakuya spared a fleeting glance at the doorway where his lieutenant stood, half out of breath, disheveled and obviously furious. He knew without meeting his gaze what had in in such a state.

"How _**dare**_ you, Byakuya?" Renji seethed marching up to the desk, each step a massive effort as he wanted to be as far away as he could from the man now. He had been there when the royal gaurd had arrived, declaring her a property of the Spirit King and the royal family. He had heard one claim that Byakuya had blessed the union between the prince and his sister, and saw the life drain from Rukia's face.

He knew that with her brother's blessing, she had no way to refute the prince's wishes, and knew that she wouldn't so much as raise her voice against these people.

It was all Byakuya's fault. It always had been. He had convinced himself that as long as Rukia was happy, that he would accept any heartache that he received from the distance they now held each other at. The Kuchiki family had taken her from him time and time again, from Rukon to the Academy, to Soukyoku for death, to putting her life in danger time and time again, and finally this, which he knew would silence their relationship beyond revival for good. "She trusted you! I trusted you to protect her, and why? So you can do this to her? Rukia deserves better than this, better than some stuck up kid that threw some shit fit and got his way!"

"If you wanted Rukia for yourself, perhaps you should have moved faster on it and done something about it yourself. Now, someone else has asked for her hand." Byakuya stood, enough abuse for one day wearing his abnormally thick decorum past his ability to maintain his ideal tone. He was tired of people barging into his office, demanding things of him. "And if I am to be honest with you, Renji, my sister is in much better hands now. At the very least he had it in him to make a move."

Byakuya couldn't have foreseen the fist coming for his face, nor could he have imagined that after doing so, Renji would kidou him to the floor and leave him there to either die or escape on his own.

_**XOX**_

Sousuke thanked the eldest maid whom had politely poured the guest in the room tea, leaning back into his seat as he abandoned the literature he was attempting to lose himself in before his brother invited himself in to breakfast.

"What troubles you, Otouto?" The man across the table waved off his maid, receiving a dark scowl from Aizen's favored servant before the woman left, shutting the door behind her as she drew her underlings along with her. She always had disliked the elder prince, going about her duties in a way-about fashion that Sousuke found amusing. Yosei did too. He enjoyed playing a game of 'Keep your head or lose it,' which involved the elder prince threatening her bodily harm until he himself stepped into the fray and broke them up, sending them to separate rooms.

Looking up over his glasses, Sousuke watched his sneaky brother, "It's of no concern of yours, Yosei. I'll deal with it myself."

"But little brother... anything that has you this upset must be dealt a swift hand. If it is not in your power, it is my responsibility-"

A hand rose, waving him off, "I do not need your interference meddling in my affairs, Yosei. Keep your nose to yourself, and I won't dig any deeper on anything you've buried."

"So this has nothing with breaking in the little bitch Captain Shiba abandoned here, eh? I could always give you some pointers, show you how to-"

Standing abruptly, Sousuke gathered his abandoned book and the blade that had recently been gifted to him. He seemed to dismiss him, walking away with fiery rage flicking at his reishi like a wildfire. "Breakfast is over; you've made yourself fairly unwelcome. Leave, before I come back, or we _**will **_have a problem here."

_**XOX**_

Grimmjow irritably fried the cakes he had smashed together, moving expertly around the kitchen, flipping this, churning that. Amazed, the children stood in the doorway, watching him twist and turn among the pots, nothing burning or boiling over anything.

"Stop that Ururu. He's prolly poisoned it. Can't trust a Hollow to do shit." he muttered under his breath. Ururu said nothing, just stared wide and wonderingly as her mouth fell agape, hungrily eyeing the frying potatoes that Grimmjow was now flipping. They were perfect, gloriously golden pucks, that promised only delight, not malice. The delicious scents wafted on the air, making their mouths water hungrily. Ururu and Jinta should have run off and reported the man missing the moment he had disappeared, but he had made it up to them every time somehow. This time, it appeared to be taking form in his bizarre cuisine.

They barely noticed when Urahara came up behind them, tall and foreboding, "What are you three doing up. It's almost three am."

The children jumped, sheepishly turning like they had their hands in the cookie jar. The hollow in the room kept about his business, acting like he had known the whole time that they were there, as he took a skilled arm against a hunk of pork, slicing it into strips. "Making breakfast. Ururu, go set the table, Jinta help me with this damn pot already."

Quickly they split up, going to their tasks. Urahara was quite impressed; they rarely showed anyone the amount of respect they did the hollow man. Might have to do with the fact he was a cooking god and that he could hold it against them, though Urahara had yet to see him do that when they turned such wanting eyes on him.

Spinning on pivot he and the boy moved in tandem, an artless dance that had both of them moving this way and that as the taller man swore heavily, shoving Jinta towards the sink to dump a boiling over pot. It was almost endearing to see them so, bumbling around the kitchen which was too small for so many.

Ururu ducked under the bicep he had leaned against the door frame, a stack of plates balanced in the crook of her arms.

It was only a few moments from then that Grimmjow had snarled at him, claiming he was in the way, either to move his tail or get his hands dirty too. With a deep sigh, he had allowed Ururu to drag him into the dining room and sat him down at the head of the table, a cutting board before him with a loaf of bread.

That was how Tessai and Yoruichi came upon him, broken in like a housewife. It had the woman grinning like a cat, and she told him as much, pressing a kiss to his crown before she moved into the kitchen. Grimmjow gave a sharp yelp and Jinta came running out with a platter of food in each hand and one balanced precariously in between his forearms. A series of loud bangs later, she returned with flash fried udon, which he only could assume was prepared while fighting the other man off.

She seemed pleased enough with herself, and became more so as she downed the large pot, sighing in content as she leaned back just as the final platter was slid onto the table. Looking over the spread, Grimmjow barked angrily when no one touched anything "Eat the damn shit already. Ain't slaved over that oven for shits and giggles..."

With no one eating, he turned, marching back into the kitchen, seizing up the delicately made lunch boxes he had prepared, marching back into the dining room, "Damn it you little shits, if I come back and there's anything left, I will poison you next time."

Needless to say, as he turned he could hear the platters rattle as the meal was descended upon, food scarfed before it hit their plates. At least he didn't have to put away leftovers this way. With that thought in mind, he left the shop and the fine people it housed, his destination one he could walk blindfolded, backwards and on his hands by now.

_**XOX**_

Sousuke had only been gone mere moments, and Yosei contemplated leaving since he no longer had his entertainment here. In only a few moments, however, he knew his lovely bed-mate would rise in the next room over, and perhaps he could find his entertainment in her.

In his thoughts, he barely noticed the way the air sizzled, devoid of life and reishi alike. A deep voice was the only sign he had of the king's presence, and Yosei found himself turning with a barely concealed look as he recoiled.

"Where is your brother, Yosei?" his father darkened his door step for the first time in weeks. His sire's attention was elsewhere, combing the earth for the precious niece that was so like a daughter that had caste herself from his celestial side. Yosei didn't blame his dear Masaki. If the amount of pressure had been on his shoulders from the get go he would have gotten out of dodge.

As it were, they had made it quite clear she had been her parent's accident, and that she must make her place in this world. He supposed that that was hardly fair, but she made it look so easy. Just in her presence, she melted the sorrow off of anyone her reishi could touch.

The Great King Enma had lost his wife Uzume, whom he had unwillingly shared with his brother, and she was the lost daughter that had taken her mother from him. For that, he had hated her in theory, but once in his arms she had taken him under her spell and became the only light of his world, the daughter he wished for after the birth of Yosei.

The eldest prince knew he wasn't loved, far from it. If he didn't have a need for him, he would have been rid of him like he had all the bastards between Yosei himself and Sousuke. Looking to his father, he set his face in a blank expression, despite his disdain for the man, "I believe he said at breakfast he was going to be training. Interesting things, these Zanpakuto. He seems to have gotten-"

Mid-sentence, the man had turned and left him once more. No other words exchanged between father and son, same as always. Yosei might have been offended if it were not for the fact that he did the same often times to his father, despising him for the way he had resented him for his own birth.

It didn't matter. Soon, too soon, he would ascend to the crown, and all would break their knees to fall before him. With a wicked smile, Yosei closed his silver blue eyes, thoughts of domination running through his ever clear mind rather than the meditation most assumed he had taken on.

_**XOX**_

Rukia had finally slipped her guard under the guise of relieving her bladder. One of the women had stood outside the door, and with a glance out the window, could see several outside waiting in case she chose to escape out the fire escape.

Turning to face the mirror, Rukia brought a trembling hand to her hair. It looked beautiful, and she regretted what she was about to do. Perhaps the prince would reject her if she was unacceptable looking. After all, he did request her as she was, and despite all the primping the servants did, nothing had altered her in a way that a shower couldn't take away. Maybe, she could find her freedom in this way.

Her hand came away with a small lock of her hair, the short knife in her other splitting the length in half. As it fell back into place, it curled softly to her chin, the nape of her neck, right behind the lobe of her ear. It was unladylike in a way she never would have done if she were not as desperate as she found herself now.

Resolve taking over her, she continued hacking small bits of her silky hair off her head until she was staring at an unfamiliar woman with the same face as her's, with all of her strength stripped from her. Each strip of hair curled on its own, and with the desperation of the moment gone, Rukia realized it looked better this way. With a deep groan, she slid down onto the toilet seat, trying to think of something, anything, that might get her out of this, even if she knew that there was nothing she could do now but meet her destiny with dignity.

Summoning the last vestiges of her pride, she stepped from the powder room, unprepared for the shriek that greeted her once the bathroom door shut closed behind her, _**"What have you done to your hair?!"**_

A small smirk played at her lips, and she raised her hand to cover the laugh fighting to escape; at least she could get a laugh at their reactions, if not her freedom. It gave her a small victory knowing that they knew she wasn't taking this sitting down.

_**XOX**_

Everything in him screamed as he pushed himself further and harder. He was promised that the blade would blossom only under the relentless touch of his spiritual pressure and that he alone must work at the blade to make it what it might become.

He was determined to succeed, determined to grow stronger. With every erratic swing, he grew angrier at himself, at his weakness for things that he allowed to affect him. The woman in his bed brought out new wrath, and he berated himself for letting her get her claws so far into his heart, for letting her become dear to him. To get it to release, he would destroy himself if he had to. He was desperate for this connection.

With a backspin, Sousuke let out a gasp of horror as he felt the blade sink into flesh, blood staining the pure metal as it dripped languidly towards the hilt; the boy fell backwards, throwing his sword away from him as he couldn't stop the motion he had set his body into. Blood welted from his father's forearm, his lithe hand touching at it gingerly. His fingers came away bloody, a look of disgust on his regal face.

The slighter man quickly turned to his knees, apologizing profusely for his accidental attack. He hadn't even sensed his father enter, and now he would pay the price. "Sousuke, we must talk."

He was willing to receive punishment, in fact, felt he deserved it beyond the accidental attack. His father looked at him with that look of distaste he knew so well, and knew time and time again he was a disposable son whom was not loved. In fact, he wasn't certain the man loved anyone but Masaki, the love of his light.

He always had a weakness where the beautiful young woman was concerned. The weakness, he too shared. A rapid pounding from the hall echoed, through the mostly empty training room, and when the door snapped into the pocket wall that hid it, two sets of eyes turned to meet the woman who burst forth, chest heaving as she grasped for air, her hold firm on the door frame as she daintily clung to it.

"Soooouu-" Kirio came crashing into the practice room, her hair a wild mess behind her back, curls spilling all over her shoulders and her kimono slightly agape. She looked terrified, her eyes wide as she shook, "Y-y-your Majesty!"

From her hand, her fan dropped, as she took a tentative step away, like she was ready to flit from the room like hunted game might when they are marked for death. She understood how inappropriate her dress was, especially how tight and revealing it was, and could feel the way her kimono bulged at her abdomen. Her hand shot to her belly as an afterthought, her glassy doe-like eyes darting to Sousuke who stood helplessly behind his father, too far to help her.

Panic over took him. His father sat between him and his would be bride and nothing could get him from his place to her side in time should their king take out any aggression on her or their baby. He could only watch in horror as the small woman too fell to her knees, her hands clutching each other tightly in her lap as she bowed her head in resignation, hoping, praying that his father would overlook the situation at hand.

But Kirio kept up custom form, regardless of what unthinkable acts she and his son had engaged in, and would continue as the child within her grew and came into their world, "I- I apologize for my unjust behavior, My Lord. I misspoke, I regret this decision... I- I will pu-"

"Lovely as always, my Kirio." His father cut her off, approaching her with an air of regal grace, "Good job, training my boy. Now, work on his reflexes. It isn't acceptable that he couldn't even stop the blade until it was half embedded in my arm." Gently, he touched her hair, smoothing it like a father might a child with whom he was distant, but was trying to close the distance, drifting his hand down her face where his calloused knuckles stroked her cheek until his firm hand lifted her strong chin so her eyes met his. Shaking with fear, she didn't even realize no harm would befall her until he removed his hand from the caress and walked away from the couple, other things on his mind.

The door shut, and they both could feel as well as hear the echo of his heavy foot falls taking him farther and farther away. A sob of relief took the doll-like woman, and her hand came over her mouth as she tried to deafen the sound of her cries lest the man come back. The young prince stood unsure of what the situation called for. Everything in him told him to take her in his arms, and fight away her every fear. But he knew that he was the catalyst, and was quite positive she would refuse him now as she once had.

Sousuke couldn't take anymore and fell to her side, trying to comfort her. She wrenched herself out of her melancholy and bolted away only to get a few feet away from him. He flashed after her, wrapping himself in an inescapable grapple until he shoved the girl into the concrete floor of the training facility. In her normally clever eyes there was no recognition, only fear and despair, the likes of which wouldn't relinquish her to him, would drive anyone to become a rabid animal.

Her violent outbreak against him seemed to seep all of her energy out, and he let her torso up, leaning onto the strong thighs that pinned her down at her waist and the sobs turned to heart-wrenching agonizing shrieks as she let him draw her off of the ground, "She's not safe...Nothing can keep her from him, what do you think will keep our child safe, Sousuke_**...Sousuke..."**_

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know if he could do anything at all, even. All he could do, he supposed, was hush her, and assure her everything would be alright, even if the deepest pits of his soul were screaming the opposite. If her desperation were not enough, he knew that there must have been a cause for his father to seek him out, one that spoke of potential harm, and that in itself was enough cause for worry.

_**XOX**_

Kirio was attached to more machines than Ichigo had ever seen in his life. A monitor measured her every life sign, and regardless of how often Ichigo had seen his father pull one of a similar nature out to use on a patient, he couldn't get used to all the noise. No one told him to come here, no one asked him to stay. But he owed it to his father, to his sisters and perhaps himself, to watch her, keeping a silent vigil.

Tiredly, he rested his chin on his folded hands, knees propping his elbows up to a reasonable level as he watched nothing happen, offhandedly regretting leaving the book Kirio had given him on etiquette back at the barracks of Thirteen. He wondered if Rukia had found it, and whether she would humor his attempt as assimilation. The young man didn't want to force her hand, but he hadn't been given many options. He had first named Orihime Inoue, knowing how deep her affection ran for him- enough that she would abandon her life to save him and above all others chose_** him **_to say goodbye to- but Kirio had tartly shot down the red haired woman. He understood now, exactly why.

Voices carried on the wind from the hallway, ones he tried desperately to ignore but couldn't. Everyone here spoke so loud. He didn't doubt that they had been trying to keep the information from him; so what if he wasn't the only heir to the throne? It didn't make his decisions any different, didn't change what he had to do next, only narrowed his options.

_**"Excess reitsu can warp you, change you physically. I can't believe Aizen did this to her. "**_

_**"I can. I don't think anything is beneath him as long as it puts him closer to his goals."**_

_**"Of course there is. He could have used that Ryoka against the Kurosaki-sama, don't be dense. The boy has a weakness for her, and it wasn't under Sousuke Aizen's notice. It's not in his nature not to use such a weakness."**_

_**"But it's not in a father's nature to harm his daughter. He did what he could to strike the boy down with her in a safe place. Now what he did to her mother, now that's a sad fate. True to say that love turns quickly to hate under the right circumstances. I have no doubt she still loves him, why else would she free such a monster?"**_

Turning his thoughts to Orihime, Ichigo couldn't help but wonder how she was doing now. He had done his damnedest to try to give her space after the Winter War, tried, in his own way, to provide some sense of safety for her so she could move on. He hoped she could strip herself of the horrors that befell her in Las Noches. Knowing as he did now, he would have to get into contact with her again, to extend his hand to her once more and drag her back to his side. He felt guilty enough for abandoning his friend, it didn't help to learn she was actually his family.

His thoughts consumed him, his ears heard the rumors spreading through the hall, but his eyes observed silently, watching his aunt with morbid curiosity, his eyes darting to the monitor as her heartbeat increased, and she moved uncomfortable in her sleep. Her lips moved of their own volition as she struggled in unconsciousness.

The commotion around him made him miss what she said at first, the tightness of her face scaring him. She seemed to be in very deep pain, despite the sedative that her line was dripping. Moving closer, he tried to get someone's attention, calling into the hall. No one seemed to be paying him any attention however. "Hey! Anyone out there?!" Ichigo called, his eyes never leaving her, or the monitor, darting between both. "Hey! I think she's waking up!"

A tall woman came into the room swiftly with the air of a dancing step, the sound of bells reverberating around the room as her okobo soundlessly skimmed over the floor. Coming in front of the bed, she wrenched the woman up out of the bed, her hands clasping the front of her yukata, shaking her profusely.

"Hey now!" Ichigo stood up from his chair, reaching out to grab hold of the dark woman's arm. "Stop that, she's still in a coma, she ain't gonna wake up like that!"

Ignoring him, another set of arms that had been hidden beneath a cloak pushed him back into the chair as she continued on with what she had come here to do.

"Wake up, Hikifune." the voice was harsh, stern as she shook the woman again, "I said wake up right now. This is more important than your wishy-washy problems."

Her face was serenely scary, much like Unohana Retsu's and she ignored him, continuing to shake the woman with short, persistently rattles, her head lolling forward, "We don't have time for this, damn it, Kirio. I said. Wake. Up."

"Let her go, Shutara." Isshin's soft voice fell upon them like a bucket of cold water; she turned to look at the doorway, the long cascade of ebony hair on her right side falling over her shoulder as she turned to look at him, a smile spreading across her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Her hands let the woman slide from their grasp, turning slightly to face him to notice that one arm still grasped Ichigo's wrist in a bone-breaking grip, "My son too, now Senjumaru."

A soft pout set on her lips as she grumbled to herself, looking to her hand. The arm twitched mechanically before she yanked it off with a sense of annoyance. Throwing the appendage away was short work and she was able to return to looking at her former leader, "Captain Shiba, it's good to see you again. How long you going to stick around this time?"

"It's Kurosaki now, and I don't have any plans, other than to protect my children. I suppose that's not something that someone like you would understand, but it is what it is. Do me a favor, keep your hands off my kids, they're not one of your experiments."

Shutara sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing out the comforter and her hair at the same time, her eyes never leaving his, "I'm sure your son would enjoy it as much as you did, Isshin. But for qualities sake, I'll keep your similarities strictly platonic."

A shiver past through Ichigo at the way she purred that, and a short gasp from Kirio had his attention back to her. She was too deep to wake, but seemed to have enough brain activity, trying desperately to say something through the fog in the waking world.

The dark woman turned her attention back to her companion, searching her face for any change in wakefulness. "Isshin, bring me some pain killers. I think Kurotsuchi might have hidden them in that wall panel over there."

The light in her eyes brightened suddenly, and against his better judgement, Isshin found himself running his hand over the directed panel, cringing as an array of syringes, scalpels and other tools of dissection. No drugs at all. As he turned back around, the woman had her victim beneath her, her long, spidery fingers prying open her eyelids to gaze at the empty stare. Kirio's eye blankly sat open, before it dilated and rapidly contracted, wavering the gaze like it was darting to focus on something.

A genuine smile spread over her lips, and Shutara withdrew, looking down with a look of superiority as she pet the unconscious woman, "I know where you've run off to now. Still don't understand the difference either. The prince we knew and loved, he died, sweet Kirio. And no matter how hard you run from it, you will have to eventually wake up and accept that you are what set all of this in motion; you are the one that drove the idle blade into his heart."

_**XOX**_

Yosei hurried his pace. It was obvious that his brother was in a hurry of sorts, perhaps off to see the slight woman that bore his bastard child. He was always in a rush these days, so hard to get his hands on.

"I thought long and hard on your problem, little brother."

A shocked look passed over the slighter man, as he looked at him incredulously. He never thought of anyone but himself. "Come now, i's not unheard of, Sousuke." Yosei started, drawing the conversation out.

"Our family has often fallen upon this for a solution: toss out the trash we want to hide in Rukon. It's simple and permanent; I mean who would believe a kid out in the slums claiming to be a lost prince. I know of a few kids dad threw out there, hell I wouldn't be surprised if a few of my own weren't slithering around down there. Lovely place, lots of holes to hide mistakes in, like the bitch that you and yours have made. If you don't have it in you to get rid of the brat, then I'll do it for you. I'll even let the poor kid have her mother. Besides, I'm sure with Captain Shiba gone she's sure to be longing to get away from you. She'd be happy to go back home to that-"

He didn't see the swing coming until his brother was on him, his knuckles rapping against his face in rapid succession, yanking the elder boy's long golden hair back to gain better access.

Blood hemorrhaged out with every strike, and a sickening cracking noise left him sick to his stomach. He was sure his little brother was going to end him, disembowel him so he could watch himself slowly die as Sousuke showed him how much he favored the woman over his own blood. He could barely lift his arms against his brother's wrath as he whipped him against the wall, his chest heaving with the motion. He half expected the boy to follow through with it and end him here and now.

Throwing the boy to the side, darkness had overtaken Sousuke that his brother had not seen before. It was an overwhelming fire, blazing with savageness and hate, the kind that would one day burn everything to the ground. The emotion swarming in his eyes left him paralyzed in fear, and he realized how deep in it he had dug himself. At the very least, his nose was broken, but Yosei had a dark foreboding feeling that his brother had done far worse damage to his face other than broken his nose and split his lip.

"You are so beneath my contempt, Yosei." And just as quickly as his fear had surfaced, Sousuke turned his back on his brother, stiffness in his shoulders as his forceful turn whipped his cape around his thin frame. He paused only a moment to wipe the blood off of his hands before snarling at his brother and taking his leave, "You will not approach either of them, or I will obliterate you from this world and the next."

_**XOX**_

Ichigo finally had enough. With a weak excuse to his father, he had shoved past Shutara as she commanded a team to bring her this or that. He doubted anyone could tell he was gone, but he wouldn't just sit around and watch as she killed one of his best friend's mother.

His aunt, regardless. Now that he knew that she was Orihime's mother as well...well, he waned her alive. Alive so she could apologize to her daughter in person, to create a bond if there could be one to build.

He could sense them before he saw a single one. Members of Squad Zero fell into position around him the second he had stepped out of the Twelfth Division; in trees, bushes, few were in plain sight, though they kept their eyes from him respectfully. They folded around him loosely, moving with him as he crawled towards the Eleventh District to retrieve his lost books at the very least, or sucker a drink out of Kyoraku and Ukitake if he were especially lucky and the two had hung back and drank at the division instead of a bar.

He hadn't expected to find Rukia seated on her cot, flipping through one of the books he had left, apparently, on her bed, flanked by reflective people, a brother an sister, he realized, with charcoal brown hair that brushed their shoulders the same way. The woman was mad, the way she stood rigidly as he came in made him wonder what it was he had done to her; it didn't take him long to recall her name, "Zane?"

The man stood, bowing deeply, the motion making his jagged hair fall over his shoulders, "Prince Kurosaki."

Rukia's gaze shot up, the book slipping from her hands as they shook harshly. She rose, half in a daze as the soundless question fell from her lips, choking her, "Prince K-Ku-kuro-saki?"

Her gown fell soundlessly around her as she stepped forth and the fabric pulled slack and taught downward. She hesitated drawing closer to her friend as she realized he was staring at her, "You..._**you cut your hair?"**_

A hand touched her hair, and fear overwhelmed her as she fully regretted her actions. Ichigo... He wanted her. She knew this man. He hadn't blindly picked her because of her noble connections, but for her. "I...I did it hoping..."

"You could make me lose interest? I get it. Look Rukia, I don't want to force you into this. If your so desperate not to get tied down-" In his eyes, she could see him breaking "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to. Rukia...I..."

She... liked Ichigo. To be his wife wouldn't be the death sentence she had assumed it to be. Reaching out, she took his hand in her much smaller one, as she looked up to his face to his warm, golden eyes that shined down upon her with moderatly crushed hope. Had someone said who her prince really was, Rukia would have been much less reluctant to have come to hear him out at the very least. His fingers loosened slightly beside her chin, and in that moment Rukia leaned up into his chest, pressing her lips lightly to his. His heart quickened, and the hand that cupped the side of her face came to the back of her head, guiding her as he deepened the kiss. As they parted, Rukia realized he had lifted her off of the ground, and her body was flush with his as his arm created an iron cage at her waist, her feet on the bed.

It brought her up about a head taller than him, and the change made her feel different, like he was revering her image. She hadn't felt important earlier when so many servants had doted on her like royalty, but here, under his smoldering eyes, she felt like the princess they had made her out to be.

"Ichigo. I think... I think I'd like to try..."

Embarrassed now, as his gaze settled heavily on her, she played idly with the short crop of midnight locks that she still had left, "So do you really hate it? You can tell me the truth. I know its too short and it makes it curl and-"

"_I love it_." the boy whispered, his smile endearing as he looked down at her. After a moment of thought, he ran his hand through her part, roughing it up and pulling it so her hair swept across her face rather than out of it, so that her bangs curled towards her ear on the one side, "But you should were it that way. Looks much better on you."

The grin on his face grew as her hand softly touched the change in her hairstyle, and contagiously, she smirked back at him, smacking him in the arm playfully, "Ichigo, you idiot. I wear it like that most days."

"Well no wonder why I liked it better." A sincerely shocked expression made her laugh as the boy sheepishly scratched at his own head, looking elsewhere, "It was like the you I've always known. It suits you, it defines you, and I wouldn't change a single thing about you, prince or not."

With a curt giggle, Rukia leaned her head towards him, whispering something in his ear so no one but he heard. She gauged his reaction with interest, and after a moment shook her lighter head, nabbing his hand in her's and pulling him towards the door, forcing him to flash step away with her.

_**XOX**_

_**KYYYYYAAAAAHHH! A new chappie in a week. Wam, bam, thank you mam.**_

_**Reviews please. Buttons way down there, I know**_

_**So questions I have for all you readers out there: **_

_**1) Out of the Espada, who was your favorite and why. Would you want to see any others return?**_

_**2) Are you enjoying the SousuKiri or would you prefer more IchiRuki, GrimmHime, UlquiHime, or perhaps the established Masaki x Isshin pairing? Which would you like to see more of? **_

_**3) GrimmHime or UlquiHime and why? I'll be honest, I keep swinging here. I like writing GrimmHime, its easier, but I think either as likely as the other. Its more than likely that this will be GrimmHime shipping in the end with some UlquiHime.**_

_**For those of you that just want to know kyoketsu-shoge is a ninja weapon made of a chain and a scythe-like blade which to can swing, but also stab with since the top has a vicious knifey **_**_protrusion._**

_**Either way, I hope you enjoyed it.**_

_**Until next time**_

_**JA NE  
>TAORI<strong>_


	7. Just Say When

_**"I see you there, don't know where you come from**_

_**Unaware of a stare from someone**_

_**Don't appear to care that I saw you and I want you**_

_**What's your name? 'Cause I have to know it**_

_**You let me in and begin to show it**_

_**We're terrified 'cause we're heading**_

_**Straight for it, might get it**_

_**You been the song playing on the background**_

_**All along but you're turning up now**_

_**And everyone is rising to meet you, to greet you"**_

_**XOX**_

In her empty apartment, the young woman sat silently at her kitchen table, idly stroking the rim of her teacup, contemplating her situation. She had come home to no one, not even a trace of signature ki to prove she wasn't going crazy. So, did that mean Ulquiorra just didn't exist? If that were the case, she would simply have to force herself to move on. He had, however, been with her since Hueco Mundo, keeping her company whether she would have rather been alone or not. In this silence, her heart ache was deafening. The resolved knocking at the front door reverberated through her, deep into her very soul.

Opening the apartment door, Orihime gasped, taking a step back. Grimmjow stood outside the door, an irritable scowl pulling at his full lips as he looked anywhere but at her. He leaned, hunched slightly with one hand buried in his jeans, the other loose at his side as two western-style brown lunch bags swung crumpled from his hand at his knee. Her eyes wandered over the washboard abs she could see clearly defined by the black tank he sported, knowing it hid the hollow hole in his abdomen; something in her made her acknowledge that the man before her was very well built, and looked from his hand to his eyes with almost guilt reaching her grey orbs, and realized that the bright blue eyes were fixed on her suddenly, almost with a predatory glint to them as a cocky smile pulled at his lips. "Grimm-joow, whhaa?"

"I asked if you like what you saw. From how long your eyes idled, you musta found-" Something behind her made him take pause, and Orihime turned to look at what had brought out the broken expression on his face. A noise like a door shutting alerted them both to someone in her house. "Look, I see you've got company. I'll just swing by another day or whatever..."

His hand forced one of the bags into her hands before turning and walking away without another word to her, only stopping momentarily to knock at another door far down the hall right before the stairs, which opened a moment later to reveal the elderly woman he had scared the night before.

The woman went to slam the door in his face, fear evident on her wrinkled expression. Grimmjow seized the door before it clicked shut, however, and forced the door back open by putting himself between the slab and the jamb, holding the bag out expectantly, "Gomen."

She hesitated only a moment before taking the bag, with a look of mistrust, opening it and pulling out the container within and lifting the lid to investigate its contents. '_Must have been harmless enough,' _Orihime thought, as the woman smiled up at the large man, nodding her thanks, her weathered hand clasping his strong bicep before he excused himself and hurried towards the stairs, disappearing from sight into the dark descent.

It occurred to her that she was being watched by two sets of curious eyes, and turned her attention to the pointed gaze of Mrs. Sakamoto down the hall who held her meal like a precious gift. Her voice startled her, Orihime hadn't expected to talk to her neighbor about any of her visitors. "He really is a _**nice**_ boy, Orihime. A good boyfriend, you ought to stop throwing him out of your apartment. He really seems to love you, you know?" a knowing smile passed the woman's lips, as she nodded to herself before returning to her own home.

Orihime, in response, shut the door to her apartment, taking a few steps from the door to stand at the dip in the wall that formed a pocket which housed a healthy pathos plant, not wanting to have to explain something she herself didn't understand to Ulquiorra. She could see him now, standing near her counter, watching her with his unwavering gaze as he hashed open old woulds and new feelings alike, and she didn't feel like answering his unspoken questions. What had Mrs. Sakamoto meant? Was she mistaken, perhaps, had she mistook him for another one of her friends?

No. She realized how unlikely that was. How could you mistake such a unique man for anyone else? You couldn't, that's how. There was no mistaking him ever for someone else, but why would she say such odd things to her then? Grimmjow, her boyfriend, what a laugh. He had only come to the human world to escape the chaos of Hueco Mundo as powers shifted hands, too weak to stand much a chance against anyone, even Orihime. And this was the first time she had seen Grimmjow in weeks- he had been too weak after the winter war, and he had almost died when Nnoitra cut him down. There was no way he had been at her apartme-

She saw it then- the large, cracking crater in the plaster that looked like something the size of a soccer ball with knuckles slammed it. It dawned on her perhaps that_** that **_was who was at the door last night, what had caused the loud noise that she had noticed out in the hall.

With a sigh, Orihime leaned against the wall, contemplating her options. She had never been rushed into a corner before; even her options with Ulquiorra when he had extended her invitation from Aizen had been an obviously clear cut decision that was laid out before her: allow your friends to die, or let their enemies take you with the promise of a cease fire on you as well as those you care about. Here, she floundered like a grounded fish, lost beyond comprehensible thought.

He... _**loved her**_? No, that didn't sound like Grimmjow at all, but what else would have possessed him come night after night to her door, to make her dinner-ohhhh.

She understood a bit more. Perhaps that other box hadn't been meant for her neighbor at all. Maybe, it had been meant to be a shared meal as he romantically explained himself.

Turning to the abandoned container, she peeled away the snap on lid to gaze at the meal he had painstakingly made her, with morbid curiosity. On the bottom was a bed of soba noodles, golden in color with specks of onion caramelized throughout and garnished with chive and carrot slivers, hollowed out in the middle so that the bento shaped into a sort of yin-yang swirl, shredded pork on one side wrapping around a healthy stack of potatoes pancakes and an egg and sour cream nestled on top of the meat and lovely starchy pucks respectfully.

It smelled delicious, and she regretted not giving him some privacy with her, even if it might have been embarrassing for them both. He obviously spent a lot of time on this to impress her, and she snubbed him, without even meaning to.

Letting her head fall back, Orihime observed the ceiling, thankful for no sky or shimmer that told of cameras spying on her that might change the properties of a room around her. She always knew Aizen had been watching her, and the artificial environment he changed on a whim creeped her out. For once, she was glad to have a troubling moment with herself, and no dark clouds above her threatening rain to darken her already confusing thoughts. She had once contemplated the rain in a dark moment, wondering if the rain could connect souls together; at least for a moment- and it was true; despair connected people together. She could feel the inner turmoil that they both felt.

She was lost, she knew, before she settled on letting things come to pass as they would, and would go where the fates took her.

_**XOX**_

_**Turn around and you're walking toward me**_

_**I'm breaking down and you're breathing slowly**_

_**You say the word and I will be your man, your man**_

_**Say when and my own two hands**_

_**Will comfort you tonight, tonight**_

_**Say when and my own two arms**_

_**Will carry you tonight, tonight**_

_**XOX**_

A wild smile spread over her lips, and Rukia felt free finally. The kimono she had been bound in to wear fell away piece by piece, and she took slight caution with the layers beneath that she noticed, had yet to rip.

In her haste, she had split most of her kimono, leaving it unwearable, or rather as the servants had more likely been thinking, _unsuitable_ of her stature. Rukia had worn far worse clothes that had worn in much less appropriate ways, and hadn't given them a second thought. She supposed that now that she wasn't considered a flight risk, they might be willing to allow her more movement in her dress, though she doubted it.

Pulling on her haori, she smirked at the familiar mobility, folding it expertly over her chest before loosening it slightly, regretting nothing as Ichigo made a short noise and adverted his gaze realizing she was nearly naked when she bent over to retrieve the hakama, fully exposing her rear and her full thighs.

When she finally turned around, the boy was obviously bothered, red burning his cheeks away; he was far to innocent even now for his own good. She would have to work on that, "I'm ready Ichigo, you can turn around now."

As he turned, she caught the nervous way he looked her up and down, like he had never seen her so intimidating in Shihakusho before, "Alright, lets go then."'

It was different, holding Ichigo's hand in her own as they headed into town on what she would refer to as her first official date, despite the connotations it took on being technically engaged to him before the actual courting process. She could cope with this, however. She really liked the strawberry-haired man.

Picking up the pace to a quick-paced walk that had her light on her toes, she pulled him eagerly behind her, pointing to this or that energetically. It made the boy smile, knowing that she was suddenly free of the despair that had settled like a mantle around her. Rukia's smile was gorgeous and youthful, blinding almost as she skipped along the cobbled streets she so expertly knew.

He found himself stumbling along, practically blind to anything but her happiness. He let her drag him all over town, and as the sun began to fade, into a local tavern. It seemed to have a certain aesthetic to it that reminded him of a remodeled warehouse; strong metal beams wrapped with lights and low sitting tables illuminated by brass lanterns that hung from above. The table, which she had apparently had set in mind, was off in a large alcove, lush voices booming out. A smile spread over his lips as he realized where they were headed, and Rukia led him on, brushing aside the curtain. Several sets of eyes fixed upon them, silence falling across the group.

"Hey Kuchiki-chan..." one of the men, Kira, he recognized with a bit of effort, who was Gin's Lieutenant, said softly, a possessive arm rested over his shoulders and a man with dark hair and a steely glare that was lined by a roguish tattoo watched them from behind his wiry bicep and the smaller man's torso. The whole group, he realized, was sitting on a baited breath, staring at them as if they would break the peace that had once settled so easily about them.

"Rukia?" her captain called her, sitting up. He sat the closest, and her eyes darted to him, thankful for the support. Her hand tightened in his, as she crouched her flighty gaze scanning over the gathered group.

"Guys, this is my fiance."

A snapping noise, had her back to her feet, her legs not having made a full moments connection with the ground before she found herself getting out of Shuuhei's way as he launched himself off of his boyfriend; he would have plowed through her, she was sure. Kira got up, agilely pushing forth after the bigger man.

A slamming noise startled her, "Damn it, Izuru. He's my best friend, I ain't gonna just sit in there and let that bastard paw her all up."

The blonde came back, slightly shaken, apologizing to the group as he gathered their things, before rushing out again. Somehow, Ichigo got the feeling he wasn't as welcome as Rukia thought he would be, and with a deep sigh, he resigned to make himself comfortable in a her inner circle, regardless what they may or might not think of him.

"So what is everybody drinking?" his voice sounded strained, even to him. As a bottle was passed his way, he thanked Kyoraku graciously, taking a swig of the bitter ale. This was going to be a long night...

_**XOX**_

_**We're coming close and then even closer**_

_**We bring it in but we go no further**_

_**We're separate, two ghosts**_

_**In one mirror, no nearer.**_

_**Later on if it turns to chaos**_

_**Hurricane coming in all around us**_

_**See the crack, pull it back**_

_**From the window, you stay low**_

_**XOX**_

"You show me kindness. Why?" he asked the moment she re-entered the room. His eyes were distant and questioning as he demanded her answer. Her gaze raised to his, docile from exhaustion. She sighed deeply, raising her eyes to gaze at him blankly, her head shaking to clear away the fog around her vision.

Her soft smile faded into melancholy, and her hands pulled his up to her breast, letting his cool fingers press against the hammering heart in her chest. "You showed me what it was to be a hollow, and in a world that would have otherwise eaten me alive, you alone protected me. So many of the other Espada spat hurtful lies, things that I couldn't help but listen to, and even if you said things to hurt me, you never lied to me. You were the friend I needed most in that world of decay, and as I needed you, you need me more so here."

He watched her, as he had done countless times before. She moved about the apartment, righting things as she went towards the bedroom

Her head poked out of the door, the bright smile spread across her full lips out of place with the gloom in her eyes, "I'm going to jump into the bath, holler if you need anything, 'kay?"

Without waiting for his response, she disappeared, the door shutting only to rebound to rest ajar. In the small room, he could hear the pressure of steaming water rushing through the pipes, filling the large tub to near brimming, the swell of the water as she settled into it, and the soft sigh that escaped her lips as she sunk in as deep as she could.

Drawing closer, he could see the arm that limply hung over the edge of the tub, could hear the soft melody that filled him with a sense of belonging and endeared her to him. True, he had no choice but to stay close to the last piece of his soul still left intact which rested around her wrist, but he felt at home in the soft embrace of her reitsu, the gentleness of it flowing everywhere around him and inside of him as well.

Easing closer to her, he smiled when she had turned her soft gaze to him sleepily, her nose and eyes the only thing clear of the water. She barely acknowledged his nearness even, only turning away to look at the ceiling. He followed her gaze upward, and seeing nothing, leaned against the claw-footed tub, his head on the ledge. She continued to sing, soft and hauntingly, and somehow, the melody rooted deeply into his memory; she had sang the song before, he was certain of it. With some difficulty, he hummed along with her quietly, his eyes drifting closed as he absorbed her in entirety. Ulquiorra was certain she would ignore him forever again until his hand took her dry one, his fingers cold and about to fold around her dainty ones and she pulled away, distancing herself from him. She quickly stepped from the bath, her eyes caste from him and on herself in the mirror.

Standing behind her, Ulquiorra wrapped his long arms around her golden flesh, his hand coming to rest comfortably in the valley between her breasts. She didn't want him, didn't need him the way he needed her, but he couldn't just leave her be. His long fingers twitched, stroking the expanse where he knew her heart ought to be. Her eyes were soft, almost tender, as she looked between their reflections in the mirror, like there was only a hair separating her from shattering into a million pieces. His claws scraped idly, as he contemplated her. No longer did she recoil from his touch or try to cover herself for modesty's sake- no now she stared at him blankly as if he were merely another extension of herself.

"We're not the same people we were in Las Noches. You no longer wear your heart where anyone can see it, anyone can touch it. I have defiled you, broken you and reformed you in my image. Do you distance yourself from everyone now, or is it just those you don't know, and no longer can trust?"

His head tilted to the side, a silent question in his blank stare, as his dexterous finger trailed from her breast up her neck to slip a strand of her wayward hair behind her ear before whispering, "Is that why you sit in the dark alone at night and humor the idea of the dead returning to you, day after day? Have you chased away those that once held you dear?"

Orihime choked on the cry that she couldn't kill before it escaped. She didn't need to look at her reflection to know that tears were burning trails across her soft cheeks. Was that really it, had she chased them all off, would they never return?

"Do not cry, _**Princess-sama. **_"Pulling from behind her, he drew himself around her, to float at her side; the black haired man took her delicate face into his hands, bringing his cold black lips to hers, "You will never free yourself of me. I will never abandon you, and in this darkness, you and I will eternally shine, like two dying suns."

_**XOX**_

_**Say when and my own two hands**_

_**Will comfort you tonight, tonight**_

_**Say when and my own two arms**_

_**Will carry you tonight, tonight**_

_**XOX**_

Orihime had to run to catch up with him. Even from such a distance, she knew who he was, the highlighter blue hair stark in the sea of blacks and browns. It hadn't been her intention to run into him here, but fate had it she had to go grocery shopping, and the boy had unsuspectingly presented himself. The marketplace was bustling, and she doubted she could reach him through the throngs of people, yet somehow, they had parted, as if she were meant to run into him here, and she tried crying his name again, louder this time, "GRIMM!"

He turned, looking around. His ears itched, and he would have swore he heard someone calling his name. A woman with bright orange hair curled in a side ponytail which fell loosely from beneath her black hooded jacket crashed through the crowd towards him, and irritation began etching its way across his face. Could he not go anywhere without women throwing themselves at him? He knew he was attractive, many had told him so, even Halibel had tried to throw herself at him once or twice before she had gotten the hint.

"Hey did you want to grab dinner tonight?" The girl caught up with him, her hand touching the small of his back, almost in awe of reaching the elusive man.

"No, I'm busy." Grimmjow turned back around, without really acknowledging her. What was with women that they couldn't help but fawn at his feet? He just didn't understand it; even if he was as well built as he thought he was, he couldn't comprehend how a human woman would find any real value in his physique. The hollows, the Espada, sure. It was all a power struggle there, the strongest survived, and sometimes those that warmed their bed got taken along for the ride.

Momentarily, she found herself upset that she originally thought he might have had any interest in her. Why would he? She could see that he could probably have any girl he wanted just by looking at them the right way, why would he want to involve himself with someone so obviously broken. No one should have to help her put the pieces back together. "Sorry, I thought you were one of the few hollows that didn't hate me after the war. I don't mean to bug you, Grimmjow, just everyone else is ignoring me now. I suppose they just want to give me space to cope, but I'm so lonely this way."

Her voice made him freeze. It was like an angel's sweet tenor reaching out to him; he turned, his eyes wide as he met her gaze and she quickly looked away, nervous. "I... I don't _**hate**_ you...Orihime... I feel...damn... "

"Love?" Her soft voice broke through the hesitation, through his fear. Was that what this was? It had been so long, he was unsure what exactly sure, but damn how he hoped it was. Turning to face her fully, he crossed the distance between them, towering over her by a full head, which made her look up at him, almost in wonderment. Her eyes were wide and bright, hopeful.

Shaking his head, he ran a finger tentatively along the outside plane of her arm, down her wrist and over her petite pinky, which twitched at the light touch. Drawing patterns on and around her hand soon grew calming, and Orihime found herself leaning into his touch, "That's...that's what you make me feel, every bit of it. And...And it's been so long since I wanted another living creature... I don't know what for, just that I do."

Orihime watched their fingers, as she twisted her hand in his, linking her long fingers around his like each were a hand holding another, before raising her silver eyes timidly, "Alright."

His head whipped up so he could look deeply into her eyes, to be certain he had heard her correctly. The closeness of their hips sent sharp jolts of energy through him; she was close enough to breathe in, to taste in the air. Their spirits flared around one another, caressing the reitsu that crashed against it and melding together like water and oil. With a whim he could touch her, cross the ground between them, if only he wished it, he just knew he could have her. She wasn't as far away as she once was, "What?"

"I said alright. We can try this out. I can't promise you anything. But you deserve a chance. To at least try out whatever it is you're feeling. It's not my place tell you not to feel things, so I won't." Her hand tightened in his and she pulled him along behind her, intent on doing her grocery shopping, "Its the least I can do for you, for saving me in Las Noches, and for making me such a wonderful meal the other day."

_**XOX**_

_**I come across you lost and broken**_

_**You're coming to but you're slow in waking**_

_**You start to shake, you still**_

_**Haven't spoken, what happened**_

_**XOX**_

Kirio turned frightful eyes to Sousuke, her arms around her waist as she tried to soothe her baby. The fetus within her writhed around, kicking as she tried to complain in the only way she could about the conditions she was enduring within her mother. The full-figured woman knew her heartbeat was irregular, and the pace she had taken to get here had upset her child. She was perspiring, the sweat plastering her Shihakusho to her back, her breasts heaving.

She had just escaped the elder prince by a hair; he had always followed her with a watchful gaze and the woman was fairly certain he didn't trust her in the slightest. It shouldn't have surprised her that he had threatened her when she had woken up. Of course he would have found out about their illegitimate child when they had tried so desperately to keep it silent. Nothing escaped Yosei's notice, after all. Not even the scars she carried.

He knew what they were, and perhaps even who had created them. She had been naive to believe that he would keep the information to himself. She didn't even realize that the clever man had corralled her into the royal throne room, blocking her way out when she realized he had drove her here to stand before her love and their father.

He had caught her in the hall shortly after the run in with the king; shaken, he had been able to force her before the king, and knowing her too well, took hold of her arm when he realized she meant to run away again and threw her to her knees before his father as he smugly stared his royal family down. Enma, curious about the debacle his children and guard were making in his throne room, demanded an explanation. "Explain yourself, Yosei."

"King Enma, father, it seems there is a serpent building its nest in our palace." Yosei brushed his long golden hair from his face, his thin eyes coming closed as he smiled slyly to himself, reminding the younger prince mildly of a snake himself, "Sousuke has himself a bastard he has yet to announce."

His father's eye fell upon the woman, taking her in as if it was the first time he had ever seen her. She looked full, and her fear gave her away as her hands tried to work their magic on the girl within her, calming her. Sousuke pulled her behind him, his regal form a shield between his father's wrath and his unborn child, and allowed the Spirit King to glare down upon him. The unborn princess calmed as his hand came upon her, covering her mother's comfortingly.

"You wouldn't deny a mother her first child, would you Father? It was always my intention to make her an honest woman, this simply just happened. Allow her to carry to term- we already know it's a daughter, so she cannot bear the crown without-"

A snort made him pause. Yosei covered his mouth coyly, "Oh but dear Sousuke, brother, you have been fooled. Surely she has pulled the wool over your eyes, you cannot be so blind to her body that you could miss such blatant evidence..."

Looking between Kirio and Yosei helplessly, Sousuke sat to the side, and watched with wide, hurt eyes as his brother ripped the kimono from her stomach. He looked confused, her lover, and his brother smug, like he had won the war without raising a hand to do so. She didn't even try to cover herself, only stood awkwardly like a nude model in an art studio as the kimono fell open around her.

Questioning, the brown haired prince approached on light feet, his voice softer than he had tried to make it, suddenly out of breath as it rasped out a semblance of her name. "K-kirio...wh-what is-"

"That, brother dear, is a cesarean scar. A nasty one as well. Comes when you cut a child from the womb. And from the looks of it, it wasn't done well. But then again, I'm sure no good doctor would cut a child so old out for you, would they?"

"She's not my first, Sousuke-sama. I...we...she..." turning, she couldn't meet his eyes, feeling disgusted with herself and terrified of his reaction, "I felt her, the other day. She and our daughter, they touched each other somehow...Despite everything, she still lives, and yearns to see our child in this world like no other."

She wasn't sure who she should fear most, as all eyes glared down upon her. The same eyes, yet so different set in each of the royal faces. Shaken, she lowered her hands to her daughter yet born, taking a turbulent breath before raising her head to face Sousuke, his expression broken and defeated._ I love you, Sou... I'm so sorry.._

"I apologize, my king. I lay both our lives in the hands of my creator, and pray that he has enough compassion to breath life into me again, so that even if I have betrayed you so in this life, I may do you greater honor in my next. Take from me this babe, and give her a hope for life, and a better chance as well, as she might make you prouder than the mother that bore her. And forgive the son who stood so willing to fall, to know a love that might rival your own, and for that I apologize. I am the siren, and he heard my call. For his sin, place all blame on me."

She fell to her knees once more, her eyes setting on the king only momentarily, before bowing deep across the ground as much as her stomach would allow for, waiting her punishment.

"Kirio, NO!" The boy screamed just as the words left her lips.

_**XOX**_

_**They're coming back and you just don't know when**_

_**You want to cry but there's nothing coming**_

_**They're gonna push until you give in or say when**_

_**Now we're here, and it turns to chaos**_

_**Hurricane coming all around us**_

_**Double crack throws you back**_

_**From the window, you stay low**_

_**XOX**_

Grimmjow had watched the young woman bustling around her small kitchen in mild awe. Like him, she seemed to have a comfort in the diminutive room, regardless of the area she had to work with. With curiosity, he hovered over her, as she mixed peanuts in a saute, and fried bacon wrapped avocado slices in a small frying pan, a stir-fry beside that, and the whole mess above what appeared to be a meatloaf in the oven, but with quite a recollection of their shopping trip could think of nothing that could look quite what those patties looked like.

"Orihime, what's that?"

"Turkey- sweet-potato meatloaf. I'm working on a orange and peanut glaze now."

His stomach tightened at the though of that. It sounded like a disaster, though he wouldn't say that to her, and found himself gasping out an offer to help instead of puking on her shoes and clean tiled floor.

She glanced back at him, a small smile on her face as she handed him a spatula from her service cup next to the oven and pointed to something he couldn't name, a direction to watch it as she ran and did something.

As she left, he dipped his finger in the pots, blanching at some of them, and went rifling through her spices while she was out of the room. He wouldn't say anything to her face about the atrocity of this pot, but he was going to be damned if her forced it down as bad as it tasted now. Another test, and he nodded, knowing it would mellow more as it simmered the bay leaves to limpness.

**XOX**

"The food was good, but next time I think we ought to leave the cooking to me."

Leaning back, Grimmjow eyed the meal he had devoured with less gusto than he had though he was capable of. Not to say that the girl was a bad cook, however. Her style simply was...unique... But it did not suit his needs. Whereas he was universally accepted as a good cook, she had some work to do in pleasing other's tastes.

He could get used to this, however. She obviously tried to up the protein in the meal she would have normally eaten on her own. Orihime had feasted mostly on the stir-fry, mixing it up with half a slice of her odd meatloaf and the glaze over the both, while he had capitalized on the avocado bites, and eaten the meatloaf off on its own, which was actually strikingly delicious.

She smiled warmly at him, clearing the table, "Yeah, I'm sure your still a much better chef. I cook what I like, but maybe we can cook together someday, mix it up with each others recipes."

Picking up the dishes, he felt rude as she moved awkwardly into the kitchen to the sink; he should have helped her, but the girl seemed to want to impress him somehow, and seemed determined to make herself into a good hostess.

Turning inward, he thought of their outing and their day wandering aimlessly together. It was pleasant, bathed in the euphoria of his spiritual pressure unhindered, wrapping itself as it wanted to do around her, becoming one entity. A deep peace had settled into his chest, and the turquoise haired man couldn't remember a time he had felt so...so... happy?

A startled shriek and a crash had him up and out of his chair, dashing for the kitchen, worried she was hurt. She sat, curled among the shattered dishes, her trembling hand grasping a piece of paper, the scent of lavender new on the air. Glancing at the counter, he spotted a vase of fresh cuts of the flower.

Shaking Orihime couldn't silence the cries racking through her chest. Grimmjow came bolting down the hall the very instant her emotions went south, flaring rapidly and attacking him without really trying. It was like a two year old throwing a tantrum against a body builder, adorable but futile, but in this moment, the blue haired man knew she was doing so out of inner turmoil.

She sat on the ground, holding her knees as she cried, shaking hard. A letter fell from her hands which shook mercilessly, her shaken face looking up to him for help. She stood, throwing herself into his arms. His arms became moldable steel as he drew her close, catching sight of elegant scrawl on the paper.

_Dearest Orihime,_

_ I suppose my condolences are in order. _

_By now, I am sure that word has reached you of Ichigo Kurosaki's _

_upcoming nuptials and the connotations that that brings. I write you,_

_not to rehash the wounds that I once inflicted on your very soul, _

_but to mend them, in hope that perhaps you may understand _

_what has happened that brought me to claim you for the Hollows._

_ You will always be welcome in the kingdom that I built, solely, _

_for people like us, who were never meant to exist in this world._

_I have come to new information about the nature of your powers, _

_and would like to congratulate you. Your mother is alive and well, _

_and is sending the Royal Guard to retrieve you, as she had done _

_your dear cousin. I wish you all the best, and hope that you might_

_enjoy the time with your family while you can. When you are done,_

_we will meet again in Las Noches. You will find that many renovations _

_have already been made._

_ ~Sousuke Aizen_

_**XOX**_

The boy held her until she calmed to silence, the occasional hiccup that escaped her throat startling her into upset again. Tired of leaning down , he had swung her up into his arms, and brought her silently to the bedroom. She laid silently, long dried tears staining her cheeks as she cried dry now. He moved to leave her to her privacy, planning on only going as far as the couch, only to be seized by the edge of his shirt. "Stay. Please, Grimm...Stay with me.."

She couldn't bear the eyes of the fourth Espada, which stared down disappointed in her. Orihime knew, the moment Grimmjow stepped away, he would torment her for her weakness, for her fear.

He couldn't just tell her no; she was so devastated, he worried for her. Settling beside her, he shifted so that he spooned her, tucking her head beneath his chin. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his palms splayed across her taught stomach. He could feel the soft racks as she cried, and wondered how many nights she had spent under her hollow guardian's watchful eye in this way... how many nights she had spent alone even, trying to force herself to be strong. Her fingers had woven through his, pulling his hand even tighter against her so that he was sure her claws were embedded in her flesh. A moments hesitation later, and his hand had woven into her hair, pulling her head back against his shoulder. She resisted at first and then relented, as her sobs became audible. Another sharp tug and she hushed again, her cries softening. Grimmjow's hand traveled from her hair, to clutch her throat gingerly, rubbing down the length to her clavicle, where he loosely grasped, stroking the side with his thumb. "Hush now. Calm. There's nothing you can do right now, and nothing he can do to you- your safe, Orihime. He can't harm you here; he'd have to go through me to get to you anyway..."

Ulquiorra stood, abandoned in the corner, watching, yearning to join her again in bed, to revel in her agony. Where the other man fixed, he wished to crush further, to see the depths of her sadness for in them, he saw himself.

_**XOX**_

_**It all began with a man and country**_

_**Every plan turns another century**_

_**Around again, another nation fallen**_

_**XOX**_

Aizen stood before the medical center, for the first time in a long time, hesitant. It had been child's-play to escape from the Maggot's Nest once he set his mind on it and had been unchained. He was leaving, it had been his intention from the get go. But in his dreams, she always was at his side., and now that he was free again, he was uncertain of how to proceed. He had to say goodbye, at the very least, even if he wanted nothing more than to spirit her away with him now, but he realized how dangerous that would turn out; she was weak, near death even. His father's reitsu had fed her, kept her strong, and its sudden absence was killing her.

Stepping around the blonde haired woman seated beside his lover, he eyed her warily. She didn't seem to sense his presence here- her head twitched forward and her eyes closed as she pillowed her head on the palm of her hands which rested on the chair arms comfortably, so he continued to the other side of the patient, his back to the window as he turned in the dark room to gaze at the woman in the bed.

She was lovely still, even asleep. He could see the worry lines that hadn't been there before, and watched as they furrowed as she felt him draw near to her. Her weakness made him understand he could not move her, even if he wanted to. These people, he would have to trust that they would take care of her...

"Wake up, my dear. Our daughter is being brought to you now as we speak, and it would be such a shame for her to know you in this way."

Leaning down, his lips pressed upon hers silently. With his hand, he gingerly cupped her strong, hard chin, lifting it to deepen the kiss with his unconscious woman. He pushed, flexing his reitsu outward and into her as much as he could bother to spare, knowing what it would do for her, now that he understood what his father held over her. She groaned in her sleep, and he knew it would be only a few hours now before she would wake again, rather than weeks of uncertainty, but by then it would be too late. He would be long gone, and would already set into motion all of his plans, revised.

On his way out of the room, Aizen looked to the only other occupant in the room. The other mattress, he idled by only momentarily. Guilt overtook him. Perhaps, had things gone as they should have, this man wouldn't be in such a state. It was his fault as much as his own, he knew, but love drove people against reason, even Aizen Sousuke knew that much.

Gin may have accepted the hand offered to him, but of course he would turn and bite when the only family he had known was endangered. Family, Aizen recognized, who should have been doubly his own. Funny, how the past kept turning around to bite him again and again.

Turning away, he moved on with a purpose. He had, after all, many steps to take before he disappeared from this world for now. He had worlds to shake, after all. A wicked smile spread over his lips as he disappeared into a a Garganta.

_**XOX**_

_**Maybe God can be on both sides**_

_**Of the gun, never understood why**_

_**Some of us never get it so good, so good**_

_**Some of this was here before us**_

_**All of this will go after us**_

_**It never stops until we give in, give in**_

_**XOX**_

Orihime had awoken to the sound of a mob breaking into her apartment, the rush of feet stampeding half silent to surround her. Lifting her head, she slid backwards as the group closed around her. Some, she noticed, sat in the window, in the doorway, on her dressers. A man stood before her, his arms folded across his chest, thick bands of green and brown tribal tattoos running along his arms as he gazed down at her with an immovable expression. Something like a cowl sat around his neck, covering his mouth, which she was sure was set in a pout, and there was a hood that loosely covered his head, leaving his green eyes the only noticeable feature on him but the soft ashy-looking hair that whispered out beneath the hood. "You're awake then, Princess-sama?"

In his voice, she heard no malice, not like she had associated with that title. Grimmjow, sensing they were no longer alone in the room, forced himself into wakefulness, pulling her tighter to him like one might drag a blanket; she felt like he could spread her completely over his hard chest now, that she could melt and become like a quilt he had wrapped around himself.

" Come, put this on." the gruff voice ordered her, tossing a silky gown at her. The material was soft, ruby-red silk and gauzy, iridescent violet fabric which overlaid it, reflecting light as she ran her fingers across it. She hesitated pulling it on; it was the finest thing she had ever held, but as the man continued to stare, it occurred to her that she had little choice- she either put it on of her own freewill, or this man would force it upon her. With a soft glare, he turned around to give her a small amount of privacy which Grimmjow didn't allow.

Sitting up in bed beside her, he folded his arms over his chest, a reflection of the other man down to the strict glare, and watched the man that was too close for his liking to Orihime; he didn't trust him in the least, not as far as he could throw him, which from the size of him, Grimmjow could only assume was pretty damn far. As it were, he was too far from her to stop anything from befalling her and the other man far too close to her. A growl escaped him as the man caressed her arm, smoothing the fabric that cascaded along her arm.

The man jumped. Good, he didn't need Shinigami crawling all over her, that was his job.

Moving forward on a prowl, he pulled the girl away from danger, his hand sliding fast across her thin form to land possessively on her breast. He hadn't intended on groping her, the fabric had been slicker than he had thought, but it happened and he wasn't willing to release her once he had hold of her. The woman squeaked as his hand tightened on her, she could feel every muscle in his hand as he cupped her breast.

"Stop fidgeting. You look gorgeous."

Orihime turned a critical eye on herself. The underlying red dress was long and slinky, clinging to her stomach, hips and thighs like a second skin before the split at her knee allowed the dress to flare out, letting a deep violet gauze poke out as her feet swept across the ground. Her hips, which always stuck out awkwardly in most dresses, were rimmed with a pretty iridescent purple organza, the tucking forming a dramatic v along her pelvic bones. The organza flared behind her, splitting along the same line that the lower split did. The top of the dress was the same red silk, and clung like a scarf around her neck over her breasts, shapely and folding around them to bare most of her chest to the world, the milky flesh pale against the brilliance of the dress.

She had to admit he was right; the color made her hair look like fire and even though it made her feel starkly pale, she was illuminated by the highlighting iridescence. It looked like it had been made strictly for her own use, and perhaps it had been.

Spinning, she watched as the fabric spun elegantly around her feet, giddy at the prettiness that swayed at her feet. Her head raised, and she saw her reflection as it truly was, and not her critical thoughts of herself- she looked like a princess, truly.

Nervous now, she turned to the only other man she knew stood in the room, "Sooooo... when do we leave, exactly? I should probably water my plants and call my uti-"

A snort escaped the dark, brooding man, and he held a hand up, halting her, "We should have left the moment you awoke. It was only your lack of dress that gave me any pause in snatching you from your bed. "

He looked to the woman sitting in the windowsill, and with a sharp movement, she leaned back and fell outward silently, the last sight of the soles of her slippered feet as she flipped backward towards the ground.

And then piercing green eyes were on her again, a hand extended towards her "I'm Ryou Zane. I'm responsible in seeing you to Soul Society safely, and without incident. We ought to go, before anyone notices our movement. Amane already headed out to clear our way."

Seeing that she wasn't about to make the first move, he opened the door before him, and swept his arm before him; Orihime knew he didn't ask because he was under order, though whose orders had yet to be seen. With a glance of mistrust, she stepped forth, watching the thin man as she passed him, felt as Grimmjow pushed past, following in the clothes he had worn the day before.

_**XOX**_

Silently, the girl had followed her arm guard to the park, asking none of the questions they had assumed she might ask. Surely, she was curious about who summoned her and why. But she simply moved with a regal edge to her chin, her steps smooth like rolling waves as her flats broke through the fabric of her dress, the sheer gauze and silk fluttering as she moved with an elegant purpose.

She paused, knowing that crossing through the portal would likely be similar to those she had passed through previously- with each she changed more and more and lost her innocence. She knew this trip would most likely kill what she held still of herself. Pushing the fear from her mind, she shoved past Ryuu, intent on meeting that destiny with all the strength she could muster.

Grimmjow stood on the other side of the Garganta doorway now, hesitant to follow the woman he pinned for. She turned around in the mouth of the hallway, looking for him to be behind her following, but stopped as he stayed put. She called something to him, but the blue haired man understood that more than a dimensional rift stood before them now; entire worlds apart she stood above him, glowing with nobility. He knew she was meant for better in this world in that moment, and the brilliant soul which shone through her pores had him mesmerized. Enchanted by her ethereal beauty, he had helplessly fallen before her, and even though he accepted how vastly undeserving he was of her, he didn't want to relinquish her to these people.

Stepping forth he pushed against the wards that barred him out, intent on closing the distance if it killed him. The guard beside her, shook his head, waving his arm to signal another further up of their pause in travel.

Her voice carried his name to him with an air of order, demanding him forth. She gave her summoners no quarter on this matter, she would keep the boy at her side, and in showing him so, reached for his hand.

He would have reached her too, regardless of the strength of the portal's seals that tried throwing him out, had it not been for a blade that swung to rest before his throat, and in an instant Grimmjow had pulled his own Zanpakuto from his waist to crash against the offending one, refusing to be cut down by these...

A snarl escaped him as the sword's possessor took form: a short, black haired man he knew all too well, his verdant eyes cutting deeper than his blade ever could.

"She. is. MINE!" the other hollow snarled, swinging his blade back again in a hacking motion. "He gave her to ME because I was alone able to care for her!"

With that, Grimmjow spun, his blade coming to block the attack before he pressed for the offensive. He'd be damned if that emo bastard got the better of him, dead or alive.

_**XOX**_

_**Or say when and my own two hands**_

_**Will comfort you tonight, tonight**_

_**Say when and my own two arms**_

_**Will carry you tonight, tonight**_

_**Say when and my own two hands**_

_**Will comfort you tonight, tonight**_

_**XOX**_

In her sleep, the violet haired beauty groaned, turning as she searched her dreams for what she yearned for more than all else. Her movement startled her slumbering guardian from her fitful nap, and the woman whipped around, looking around to see if anyone had caught her dozing.

Seeing that the blanket had slid from where she had tucked it on the woman, she gently righted it, smoothing the fabric along her sides like she would have made the bed without the comatose woman lying there. Leaning back again, she observed her charge, and with a soft sigh, leaned back again in her seat, touching her the chain at her breast tenderly. The only thing that she had always had, and had no idea the importance of. So many had tried to take it from her before Gin had saved her that fateful day from starvation, only to be smought down like some celestial hand had smacked them back from her in one way or another.

Wrapping her hands around one of the woman's pale ones, Rangiku thought what it would have been like to live this woman's life, with so many buzzing around and hoping for her wakefulness to come soon. They valued her for her mind, for her strength, but Rangiku had no idea what that felt like. Men always wanted her for pleasure, in one way or another. And she let them take it from her, happy to give them her all for the bit of love she had been denied time and time again. She wondered, perhaps, if the roles were reversed, if the woman lying on the mattress would have cared for her.

She sat at one bedside, ordered to watch vigilantly, when her heart longed to go to the other, where she heard the metronome of the heart monitor beating away Gin's life, showing her the distance between their souls, as machines forced air into the lungs that had already forsaken him. The blonde haired woman had been grateful for this order to watch the Spirit King's Royal Guard member, because it allowed her this close to her dear loved one, whom she had been banned from seeing since he was brought here.

Turning to watch him, she sighed, her hand pulling at the ring and the chain that looped through it, drawing out the key which sat at the end bellow her breasts, the golden metal shining in the low light as the ethereal gems set into the bow of the key, the shape of a crucifix. Her fingers followed the engraved marks that she had well memorized, a silent prayer on her lips as she hoped for life or death for them both, anything but this limbo.

Little did she know that there was a motion set in movement that might, perhaps, deliver her innocent wish.

_**XOX**_

With an anguished cry, Orihime swung limply in the smaller man's arms, her neck grasped delicately in the hollow's hand. She could feel the claws that prickled at her throat, pricking up blood as his nails raked her flesh.

She didn't understand how this had happened, but she had thrown herself between the two men, determined to stop their blades from breaking each other. They were being so vicious, she couldn't stand it. What might have been a beautiful day in which she finally united with family she knew nothing of, in which she finally found a place in life where she was perhaps no longer lonely, was being destroyed as blood splattered and swords crashed.

"Stop."

The hand tightened roughly, demanding her silence. She choked on her own breath, and one of her hands clawed at the possessive one wrapping deathly tight around her jugular.

"I said STOP Grimmjow!"

Both men froze, looking at her as if she had suddenly swore herself to Aizen's cause at last. She seemed to have lost herself in the haze of battle, neither man thought she knew what she had cried out.

"Damn it, Grimm, he can't hurt you, he's not really there!" Orihime, shaking, raised her hands and grasped the pale hand clasped on her throat, her fingers deftly stroking, like you might a sore throat, along his hands, "I've been projecting him now for almost a month, but he's not really here, he can't-"

The girl's hand came away, wet with blood and her eyes widened before wrenching his claws from her throat, realizing it really was her blood dripping languidly down her exposed chest to the crimson silk corset beneath. She fell to the ground of the tunnel, a hand at her neck and the other up as if she were about to summon a shield, her eyes frightened. This couldn't be happening; Ulquiorra had been dead, a ghost she was sure of it. How could he harm her now? Had he become a malevolent ghost?

Ulquiorra reached for her, and she recoiled, crying out in fear. He hesitated, realizing he scarred her so; he hadn't meant to do so, merely keep her safe at his side; Grimmjow threatened his peaceful existence, but he didn't want her fear as he once had. Taking another step towards her, the smaller hollow was slammed to the ground by the armed guards that had been further up the tunnel.

She saw as the ninja-esq woman that had sat silently in her window grounded Ulquiorra before he could touch her again and the woman's reflection of a man whom had sat idly by and allowed the initial attack, dashed forward, throwing Grimmjow into the wall until back up came up and took control of the two.

Again those cat-green eyes turned to her, demanding "They have wasted too much time here, and now we must take both with us. We will deal with them later, but we must hurry now, Orihime-sama, before the gate closes for good."

"You let them attack each other. You stood by and let them cut each other down, and you almost let Ulquiorra hurt me. Why? You were supposed to keep me safe, I thought." Turning to gaze at the man that had dragged her from her home, she finally demanded an answer, setting her feet firmly to the ground. "Where exactly are you taking me, and who are you really? I know for a fact that Hollows have made it into the Soul Society before, why would it prevent Grimmjow from entering now?"

The man smiled wickedly, looking the girl up and down with a hint of malevolence that she somehow realized wasn't really aimed at her. "Why, Orihime-_** sama. **_She is your cousin, or at least she was before a hollow ate half of her soul. We take you to her grandfather, the King of all creation."

"And you are?" she took a step from him, as if she were ready to bolt. She now sensed nothing to him at all, a hollow shell like Ulquiorra

"I am the manifestation of her hate and heartache. I am her Zanpakutou, Ryouga no Kunou, though I have never been a blade, I am a permanent companion and servant, I live to serve her and her needs only."

"And what is it that she wants then?"

"I need our forefather's head on a platter..." the woman's soft, sweet voice shocked her, and the woman in question pulled the cowl from her face, exposing the skeletal formation of a hollow mask which resembled a snarling canine's jaw over her mouth where the black fabric once covered.

"You're a Vizored?" she exclaimed in shock. The woman snorted, shaking her head with an air of indignation.

"No. I was born this way. It's a dark reality that you will soon come to accept." Turning, the woman walked away without another word, leaving Ryou to clean up after her.

"You can come with us now, and meet your Grandfather, or you can die here. I will force you no farther. But know the tunnel will close within the next ten minutes, and the journey the other way is much further than that. You can live, or you can die. That decision is your's."

And then Orihime was alone, left to watch as the man and woman left, her hollow companions carried and chained by the rest of the guard farther up. With resolution, she picked up her pace, rushing after them, damned if she would be left behind again.

_**XOX**_

_**Author's Note: Lyrics are Say When by the Fray**_

_**Ryouga no Kunou if I'm correct in its translation, is Surpassing Anguish. As a thrown away princess, Amane Zane would only hold hate for those recognized by the crown. She is one of many children caste away.**_

_**Hot damn. That was a lot. More development to come. Also, I feel like the chapters keep getting longer and longer.**_

_**Any who, talk to me if you want to.**_

_**Till next time**_

_**TAORI**_


	8. She is My Sunlight

_**And if all the flowers faded away**_

_**And if all the storm clouds decided to stay**_

_**Then you would find me**_

_**Each hour the same**_

_**Cause she is tomorrow**_

_**And I am today**_

_**Cause if right is leaving**_

_**I'd rather be wrong**_

_**Cause she is the sunlight**_

_**The sun is gone**_

_**XOX**_

On silent feet, a young Kirio climbed branch to branch of the apple tree plucking the ripe star apples from their vines hold on the wood, making good use of the folds of her yukata above the scrap of fabric she had wrapped thrice about her waist. She had to move as quickly as possible, this place had become known for... unsavory people milling about.

A rustle bellow alerted her of such a group of people, and she climbed higher into the brush to hide herself. From her safe spot at the top of the tree, she watched as three dark haired men took advantage of a smaller boy, one of them bashing the kid over the head as he tried to fight to get out from beneath one of them. He went silent, and from her place in the tree, she could swear she saw blood as they abused him.

Not wanting to see anything else, she pulled herself deeper into the foliage, closing her eyes as she covered her ears. How could anyone do such a thing, how could they be so cruel to someone so young?

"Kami-sama, please help him. Onegai..."

She didn't know the boy, so she couldn't say he was innocent, but no one deserved to be treated the way they were doing him over.

"Onegai...Onegai Kami-sama, I beg of you spare him!" And suddenly, silence reigned over her desolate home. After what felt like hours praying to god, he had silenced what had horrified her so.

The small child crawled over the much taller man, touching at his agape lips. Wonder read all over her face, and she pulled at his eyelids, looking deep into his eyes. He was near death, she was certain of it, but she knew of nothing to help him. With his eyes in her mind, she pulled off her obi leaving only the slip of fabric she had wrapped around her waist to hold the yukata shut and a gold chain wrapped along that. Her small hands crumpled the soft, stiff fabric and brought it down upon the slash he was bleeding out from on his chest. The blood gushed out, and she pressed down harder before tightly binding the fabric around his upper chest.

They thought they got him through the heart but had missed, she realized with excitement, and pressed down sharply with her knee to the wound. If she stopped the blood seepage, maybe...

Her hand dug around in the fabric about her abdomen and pulled out her rosary attached to her hips by its bound chain which dangled typically around her; the chain was roughly two and a half times her height, and she normally wrapped it several times around her waistline and then tucked it into her obi and her obi-jime to keep it in place, the cross itself a small little thing with a bright green gem embedded in the center, half hidden by the intricate ironwork crucifix. holding it in one hand, she let it swing delicately over his face, casting a green shadow on him as she prayed, hoping to give him peace before he was snuffed out of this world or she was forced to abandon him.

With a sharp groan escaping the man's lips, and his hand clutched at the hands that bore down on his chest gently; the slight girl clamored away, dropping her cross beside him and ducking behind a withered tree. The boy eventually sat up, bringing his hands to his face as he rubbed his eyes of their sleepiness, his hand coming to where she had bound the silk about him.

Looking around at the abandoned place, he searched for everything and anything that would tell him what had happened. The last he remembered, he had been drinking with an older group of men...

Aw Fuck. That explained things. Awkwardly, he shifted to his knees, flinching as he spread his legs slightly as he moved, assessing exactly how much they had stolen from him this time. Someone had molested him, that much he was certain of, from the soreness in between his thighs, but his haori was nowhere to be found, and in it was all of the money he had to his name, at least a month's worth of honest work.

From behind a tree nearby, he noticed a small girl with wispy amethyst hair, wide blue eyes gazing at him with fear. He couldn't see her body, but her face told him that she was emaciated, but still full of the resolve it took to live in Rukongai.

"Hey, kid! Is this your obi?" Isshin pointed to the once pretty yellow band which she had once wore- now seeped in his blood was damaged beyond all repair. With his voice, she scrambled further away, up the empty tree and out of reach.

Gaining as much distance from him, the little girl curled up into a fetal position, rocking to-and -fro, her arms covering any ill conceived attack he might make on her. In her haste to gain distance, she exposed herself fully to his observation and the movement made her drop the few apples she had collected out of the loose fabric.

She seemed too small to Isshin, almost to the point that the hand he placed over her little ones might very well have broken her. A soft noise of fear escaped her, and Isshin simply let her do as she would, sitting back on his rump to watch her silently from beneath the tree.

Too soon, the boy grew tired of waiting for her to come along, and began to eat what she had abandoned so readily at his side, taking extra care to save half for her, should she come to some understanding he would not hurt her. The apples were tart on his empty stomach, but tender as he bit into the flesh, juice from the meat running over his lips. A soft hand brushed across his chin and startled him,; he glanced to its owner and smiled warmly as he saw the small girl knelt beside him, her eyes full of worry. He raised his hand, ruffling the pretty head of hair she held, and pushed a piece of apple into her parted lips.

The girl drew back again, nibbling on the fruit she had carefully selected earlier. As she moved, the chink of chain drew Isshin's attention, and he looked down at the bit of gold that shined up at his side.

He picked up the abandoned rosary, turning if over in his hands. He would do well to pawn it, to sell it for what it was worth and be done with it. It couldn't be worth anything substantial, however, just emotional baggage.

He read the inscription, and laughed. "The key to Heaven, huh?"

Isshin followed the long chain that still wrapped itself around her obi and squatted down, insistently brushing her hair from her pretty face. Thought dirty, the girl had her own charm, and he was sure she would clean up nicely; what exactly had brought her to this desolate place? "Take it from me, kid. God doesn't want the likes of us in his realm."

She turned vibrant blue eyes to him, tears in her eyes, "That's not true! Our creator would not have made us if not for a purpose! Surely companionship-"

"Look." he stopped her, waving his hands around to the desolation and decay around them, "You see god showing up here to help any of us? I'm tellin you for your own good, your too innocent. No one's gonna step it up an help us here."

Her hand cracked him in the wound and in his shock snatched the precious object from his hand. Indignantly, she tucked the rosary back into her yukata, hoping to keep it safe, as was her charge these many, many years.

He didn't seem too affected by her attack, only shrugging away his pain and standing, moving away and back towards society at its worst.

And like a ripple of the the future, the girl stood up from the dust, and chased after the older boy until she had reached him at last, "You don't think that god is with us everyday, but I will help you see. I will save your soul. I will show you the true eyes of our god."

_**XOX**_

"How can you do this, Isshin-sama?"

He turned and regarded her with dark, tired eyes. The woman beside him turned and gave a laugh at the desperation in the Rukongai woman; through and through she was just another thrown out bilge rat, never able to reach out and touch the grace of heaven like she dreamed of, like she preached. "Why question him, Hikifune-chan, when all the answers are so easy to come by? We are simply the best decision, one that might allow him to achieve his dreams and-"

Isshin's hand rose, cutting off the black haired woman, "Enough Kukakku. I can handle this on my own."

The woman looked between her new head and the other woman and waved, taking her leave as she sauntered away, her white skirted hips swaying sassily as she walked. Kirio glared at her as she went, "Did you sleep with her too? Is that how you got taken up into the Shiba clan, how you became their head? I-"

"Quiet Kirio! She's still my cousin!"

"Where's your heart at, Isshin? I don't know this man, you are not my brother. He would not abandon me. I need you. I need you more than they ever could. They are not your family, I am!"

"What do you know of family?" He called to her, closing the distance she had kept, "Do you even know what happened to your daughter, Kirio, what became of her? Because I do."

"And where is your crucifix. Kirio?" the voice asked her softly, watching her back as she turned and walked away, her shoulders quaking softly in short spurts as she turned her angry, upset blue eyes to her brother. "Your god, even? Is he here to help you now, when everything you have ever loved is falling apart?"

He wanted to hurt her, need to do this. She clung too heavily to him, and he knew it was the only way to sever ties with her, to shatter her resolve in him; he was a man after all, not a god. Not her god, as she had always held him in higher regard than any other. He followed her, not letting up for an instant.

Her hands tightened to fists at her side, and she turned to look at him with mistrust settling about her for the first time since they had met, "I buried it along with my hope beside your faith. It's in that desert, right? Right where I first found you."

She spun back and began stomping away before turning, screaming at him; he was destroying her piece by broken piece and she let him do it, she loved him that much. "I LOVED YOU! How can you do this to me, to us?" Kirio had let him drag her through so much, in the hopes of saving him, and suddenly he was cutting himself from her permanently and the scars he inflicted she would carry always. She was furious and broken, and wanted nothing more than to hurt him the way he had done to her, but couldn't bring her gentle heart to do it. "Maybe your new family can help you find happiness. Don't ever speak to me again, I'll do you the same honor."

_**XOX**_

Leaving him was easy that day, but she knew that their fates were woven much more intricately than most. Returning to him was harder. He had betrayed her, turned his back on her.

Her hands drifted to her stomach, the long rigid scar uneven against her smooth skin. It made her abdomen ugly, and she regretted ever saving the boy in the orchard that day, for saving him every day after that, for following him into disaster, blinded by the brilliance of his soul.

He always dragged her into danger, always blindly tore her soul open. This time was no different than any other before, save for this time he willingly drove the blade into her chest of his own free will.

_**XOX**_

_**"**__I can do no more, Kirio. I'm sorry. We lack appropriate funds, I cannot afford to save him. Not this time.__**"**_

_**This time...**__ Kirio pulled herself up off of the cot, staring at the man she regarded as her father, the only man to ever care what happened to the two of them. Was this really the end? No, they could save him, they always had. This time could be the same as every other time._

_The doctor watched her, weighing her reaction as she strode forward, dropping to her knees beside him blindly, her hands searching out Isshin's larger one. She didn't even react when a man entered the small home. Bells sounding made her elder companion turn to the intruder, but she couldn't be bothered by him; her brother might very well be dying._

_"You could save him you know. For a price..." the voice had hit her strong and deep, coiling and reverberating through her very soul. She turned and looked upon the man that accosted her simply with his voice and found herself gazing at a man worthy of such a voice. The violaceous haired woman looked up to him with a small, hopeful smile._

_"What would you ask of me? I would do anything, just please save Isshin-sama! He's all I have, all I want!"_

_"I do suppose you would..." He chuckled, pulling out a large stack of coins and tossed them onto the counter with a nod to the physician, She naively accepted his offer, and he had paid the doctor handsomely to save Isshin."Do everything in your power, and then more."_

_She accepted so willingly, and innocently, nodding her agreement as the doctor looked to her to be certain. The older man looked between the two before starting his hard work, leaving the poor girl to pay the price she accepted. The man waved that she ought to follow him out of the medical facility, and she came to pay the terms, unsuspecting what might befall her._

_She had sold herself to the noble man, allowed him to touch her, in order to save Isshin from otherwise unavoidable death. '__**It was what he would have done,' **__she argued with her own disagreeances, and had let that man touch her, over and over again. He seemed genuine enough in his affections for her, until he knew he would have her. Then he turned violent._

_He paid her every time, always cocky about the way she came crawling back to lie beneath him weekly. He was a terrible pervert as well, but he made her feel wanted, and he kept her safe despite his roughness when they were intimate while Isshin recovered._

_When her brother awoke, however, Isshin had torn the man dare he touch his little sister and expect not to pay retribution?_

It took Isshin years to explain that what he had done to that man was what the Shiba clan held over him_, _what forced him to return to them, to leave her behind. They had hunted him down many months later, wanting retribution, but settled to keep him. His noble blood had saved her this time, just as her innocence had saved him, but by then the damage had been done.

_**XOX**_

She had fallen pregnant, his sweet, younger sister. It was to be expected, he supposed. The man had taken care of her physically, helped put meat back onto her bones and took advantage of her often. Kirio had been terrified of his response as well, trying to keep it from him. But how could she, when she was so tiny, and her belly swelled so.

It was about the time that he was able to get around on his own that he had noticed the swell around her hips, and he had gone expecting the man to honor her.

The noble had laughed in his face, claiming the girl was nothing but a whore. Isshin had not taken that well, and with the assistance of a fire poker, beat the man's skull in.

She had heard his confession, and prayed with him for forgiveness, claiming he ought to be absolved of his crimes against the man. He was glad she forgave him so readily, but he doubted anyone else might have. He had taken a life for making one. He felt disgusted with himself.

Months later, the Shiba clan had folded in around him. They were well skilled in tracking down their enemies, he hadn't forgotten that fact. It had, however escaped his notice that the noble he had killed had been a fellow clansmen. The family demanded retribution in one form or another for killing the current head of house, regardless of his insurrection with Isshin's sister; because of his standing in the family, a son whom ran away from home at a fairly young age, they were willing to offer him a concession: take up the empty seat, and all divergences he might have had with his estranged family would be forgiven, so long as it was just he returning to the family.

They made it quite clear that Kirio was unwelcome, and Isshin agreed. Had any of them learned of her baby...

He didn't want to put her in that position, not ever. He resolved himself to holding his tongue, to submitting, and keeping the girl safe.

_**Too bad she wasn't on the same page.**_

"Isshin-sama!" the girl cried, chasing after him. Her feet were torn, brambles cut deep up her thin, exposed legs. Kirio's arms wrapped of their own accord around her midriff, holding her child comfortingly as she ran to keep up with him through the brush, "Anata! Wait!"

He had tried, dammit he had tried, to escape her for good without her notice. the boy had planned on leaving her well kept for with the doctor that once watched over them, but she just wouldn't let him do the honorable thing. She chased him, hot on his heels, despite every turn and tumble she took.

Turning sharply, Isshin barked at her in irritation. He didn't want to hurt her, he just wanted her safe, even if it kept her farther than he would have liked. "Stay here, Kirio. You cannot come with me to where I go, not in your condition. I cannot protect the two of you."

And, wanting to follow him so desperately, she had seized his blade from his side and cut the child from her belly.

_**Can you love me now?**_

It was the haunting look she had gave him, watching his eyes with a tearful gaze, before crumpling to the ground like a smashed paper bag, that made him understand she was willing to do anything to keep him.

_**XOX**_

_**And if loving her is**_

_**Is heartache for me**_

_**And if holding her means**_

_**That I have to bleed**_

_**Then I am the martyr**_

_**Love is to blame**_

_**Cause she is the healing**_

_**And I am the pain**_

_**She lives in a daydream**_

_**Where I don't belong**_

_**Cause she is the sunlight**_

_**And the sun is gone**_

_**XOX**_

Renji never knew he could hurt this way. He had even punched Shuuhei when he delivered the news; he wasn't sure what was getting into him, but he felt like this was Rukia's ascent into the Kuchiki house all over again, except with this step upward in society, he lost her entirely.

Sitting up, Shuuhei rubbed his jaw. He hadn't expected the hit, and the shock of it had grounded him. Watching Renji warily, he took the hand he offered to help his friend off the floor, rubbing the back of his hand and down his forearm across his split lip, and looked at the smear with disgust, "Thank you, Shuu. Now leave."

The news had bothered him, but not in the way he expected. Ichigo was a friend of sorts. Could he really blame Ichigo for all of the hopeless thoughts that had overtaken him?

His reaction to Shuuhei was vicious, which said that no matter how much he told himself that the identity being a friend was better, it really wasn't. He felt betrayed now, rather than helpless.

He wasn't sure which was worse.

Looking back up, he noticed that Shuuhei still hadn't left. The dark man had a bottle pressed to his lips, cringing as the alcohol burned his lips, taking a large gulp and his hand extended in offering.

Renji took the whiskey bottle and followed suit, breathing in the liquor like it was water, reveling in the fire that spread through his veins.

"Suck's dude. Whatchya gonna do now? I mean, Rukia actually _likes_ that guy." Shuuhei asked, leaning into one of his knees, his arms forming a pillow as he watched his best friend drink away his sorrows with mild interest. In what felt like lifetimes, they had shared a similar moment, but roles were flipped, and Renji never was one for words, but he had tried to consul the thinner boy.

Shuuhei found himself speechless. Unprepared, he could only be a shoulder to lean on. Perhaps, this was what true friendship was for them.

Leaning back, the man simply emptied out the liquor cabinet Matsumoto had stocked beneath the desk, knowing this would probably only be the beginning of a fairly long day.

_**XOX**_

Ichigo woke with a start, sweat dripping languidly down his flesh as he sat up like he had gone through a vegetable mister at the super market. He should have gotten used to these dreams by now, but he knew he would never escape his hollow self, nor his weakness to it. Over his flesh, he hallucinated the blood of his friends in his waking ours, devouring their flesh, and in his dreams he endured the acts, over and over again.

_**"I refuse to carry a king who's weaker than me and get cut to ribbons with him. If you're weaker than me, then I'll destroy you, and take your crown for myself."**_

He had once been deaf to the warnings, but now he understood the harsh reality of his inner hollow's threats. He would have his humanity destroyed, and would render Ichigo's body his own, should the opportunity arise.

His movement had roused the girl beside him from her sleep, despite his attempt to get out of bed without disturbing her. Watching him, her eyes followed with worry as she rolled to catch him in the act of getting up, "You alright Ichigo?"

Her voice startled him slightly- he hadn't expected her to speak, nor her to wake either.

Her head spun with the active effects of her hangover. Placing her hand over Ichigo's, she too sat up, looking at him worriedly. Rukia could barely see straight still, and they had both drank about the same amount the night before, yet the boy beside her was sliding on his abandoned Shihakusho with deft hands, preparing to leave; she didn't want him to go off like this.

"It's alright, Rukia, go back to bed. I just can't sleep." He was about to walk out, to go out of the barracks that had been graciously left empty by the eleventh squad by order of their captain in order to give his lieutenant...adequate time to get to know her new fiance.

The thought made her smile, even though nothing had actually happened the night before; Ichigo had been the perfect gentleman, and although they had gone to bed in the buff, the worst thing they did was some light petting and kissing, naked curves and angles pressed together as they fell asleep in each other's arms. It made her anxious of the eventuality of intimacy, but it was Ichigo.

With the exception of Renji, she had known of no other that loved her the way they did. It settled her troubled mind that this was not the death sentence she made it out to be initially. She could be happy, so long as she set her mind to it. Ichigo wasn't the type to remove her for good from her friends and family for the drastic social climbing she was expected to do in marrying him.

Launching up after him, she scrambled after him, trying to tie her Shihakusho together and chase him out the door at the same time, falling sharply as she tried to get to him.

Ichigo for lack of trying, shook his head, leaving her without a second thought. He didn't want her to follow him this time. He had burned many bridges without realizing it, and now he had to set about rebuilding the destruction he had wrought in the wake of his ascent to power.

With that in mind, he had left his partner behind, seeking out those he had hurt most.

_**XOX**_

The woman sat at her bedside, a look of affection in her eyes as she watched over her charge for the day. Rangiku had a very narrow option list presented to her today, but this one she felt was a much higher priority, one she was glad to do, and hadn't tried to skirt out of. She sat diligently, floating between the two vigilantly as she righted the room, opened the window, cleaned out of boredom.

Sitting down with a sigh, her head fell back as she observed the ceiling. There was still no change, and she was growing bored. She supposed she could pick up sewing, maybe make herself a new dress or something while she kept watch over them, or maybe even something for the woman once she woke back up. Her clothes had been destroyed when they brought her here; Kurotsuchi had been overzealous in attaching her to the machines when they had brought her to him and Unohana had simply tossed them away when she had arrived, wrapping her in a white yukata, which left her open to anything that needed to be administered and allowed the tubes and wire access at any direction to her torso.

Looking down again at the sleeping woman, she jumped with a start as she saw Kirio Hikifune's unsettled gaze on her, her eyes dilated and her hands clutching the blanket to her breast.

"Hee-eeeey... It's okay, calm down... I'm Rangiku Matsumoto. You're completely safe here, just please calm down... What are you doing, those are important! You have to stay attached to the monitors! Hikifune-san!"

Kirio's hands pulled frantically at the wires that kept her alive so efficiently, desperate to escape. As she yanked them relentlessly, the machine began screeching, alerting anyone nearby that there had been a disruption in the readings. As she clawed herself, Kirio caught her hand on a delicate gold chain which someone had moved from her waist to rest against her throat, drawing it out, it shocked her only momentarily, and she raised her eyes to the other half that she knew rested in the woman's bosom.

And then she fled, as fast and far as her feet could carry her, her destination the familiar reitsu that she sensed not far enough away that it would keep her away.

_**XOX**_

_**(For sanity's sake this is a flashback as well)**_

The strongest, earth-shattering feeling struck the blond adolescent, bringing her to her knees. She had felt this crippling effect before, knew of the affect spirtual pressure had on souls that were helpless against them. She closed her eyes as she dry heaved, nothing coming out as she gagged on the crushing energy on her shoulders and ribs.

It was necessary to have eaten to throw up, and the small girl had only been able to take her fill of water. The desert had nothing to offer her, and so she continued a blind, wandering search for sustenance.

_**'Kowai.'**_

The softest of voices cried out, making the small girl force herself upright. Her arms shook with the effort, and the girl looked around for the female that said it. She felt as the wave of reitsu that had knocked her down eased to a light caress, probing at her still in curiosity.

"It's scary..?"

'_**Oneesan... I'm so scarred.'**_

"Where are you?" she cried, uncertain of who or what she spoke to. Nothing was with her here but her loneliness, and she couldn't simply accept that she had gone hungry enough that she was now hallucinating, "Tell me where you are kid, and I'll come get you."

_**'Iie...iieee.. I sense you... I know where you are, I'm coming now. Stay there, Oneesan.'**_

Forcing through the pressure, the young girl forced her thin body to cooperate, flexing her own spirit against the one that probed her, sending electrical sparks out along the desert sands.

"Where are you?!" she demanded hysterically, feeling up the pressure as it lessened.

_**'Stay there, Oneesan. I'm on my way to meet you.'**_

The girl had no choice, and fell back on her knees as the power around her let go of her like a hand throwing a piece of trash to the ground, and the spirit she held for moments was entirely gone from her.

"I'll wait for you!" she cried, hoping the only other being she had ever encountered abandoned her in her desolate prison. "Just... come quickly... please..."

_**XOX**_

Hours turned to days which turned to a week quickly. The girl laid down where she had last heard the entity, desperate for the first voice to have ever reached her ears. She had never experienced human contact in her life, having been borne in these wastelands, she had no understanding of society, or the vast numbers of human souls in the world. She could only conceive that she herself was alone in this world, and could not understand things like life meaning or love.

But she was desperate now to have that contact again. Never before it could she understand the crippling loneliness that held her, and so now she laid down, weak, awaiting the spirit that spoke to her.

She couldn't so much as sit up, she had let herself go too far. Regardless of the need for a friend, she needed food, and soon too. But she asked her to stay. Closing her eyes against the bleary sun, she didn't realize tears began to pour silently down her cheeks to wet the dry dirt beneath her. A weight settled down beside her, but she was too weak to look the wild dog she was sure came to eat her in the eyes. She simply accepted her fate.

It wasn't until she felt something brush her cheek, her hair gently, tentatively. Her eyes drifted open again and she took in eyes the color of the silver sky above cracked open slightly in the shape of an almond, and a hair of starlight that pooled around his face limply.

He smiled, and brightness filled her world. Was this the being from before? The hand didn't feel familiar, but he was the only one in this world that she had ever met.

The boy played idly with her hair until a shimmer of gold caught his attention around her neck. He took it gently, and tugged out a lovely rosary and brought the small thing closer for inspection, "Rangiku. S'that yer name?"

She stared at him in awe, her hand itching to touch his lips as they formed words she had no comprehension of and couldn't hope but understand.

Did he ask her if she was lonely? Would she be his friend? Was he lonely too, perhaps? Nodding the girl's eyes dilated to focus on his, and she wondered about the boy and how he had come upon her.

He sat up, and rolled her so that her back was to the sky, her cheek turned so it was pressed against the dehydrated dirt. She slid limply along, no strength at all in her bones to get up on her own. He watched her, calculatingly. Finally he nodded, standing out of the hunch he had taken as he observed her, "Stay there, Rann-Ran..I'm going to help you..."

And she was alone again. A sob escaped her, scaring her. She didn't understand what was overtaking her, just that his absence had caused it. Where had he gone? Would he come back?

She really ought to move, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She just laid there, ready for death and the relief it would bring.

In time, a shadow passed over her. Her eyes focused, and made out the shape of the boy over her, his hand pressing something to her lips. He was persistent, too, and didn't relent the shoving until her jaw moved, biting into the dry, chewy flesh he fed her.

It was sweet and savory, the texture gummy. She chewed as he fed her, bit by bit that was tediously offered to her, until her lips wrapped around his fingers in a soft, unintentional kiss.

The boy withdrew quickly, unsure of what to do. Rangiku was terrified that she had upset him, and that he might leave her now. Instead the boy nodded, pulling off the long piece of silk that he wrapped around his waist, unfolding it across the two of them as he laid down beside her, "Is alright Ran. I'm here now."

He drew her closer using the soft pink shawl, the last piece he held of his mother to remind him that there was soft and kind things in this world, not only the things that hurt him. And his lips pressed delicately to hers, silencing her cries forever.

He didn't need her ghost anymore. He had his own softness now, and he would keep her safe forever.

_**XOX**_

_**And it will take this life of regret**_

_**For my heart to learn to forget**_

_**Tomorrow will be as it always has been**_

_**And I will fall to her again**_

_**For I know I have come too close**_

_**XOX**_

Running, Kirio pushed herself to the breaking point, desperate to escape. Her feet kept slipping out beneath her, the house slippers losing purchase as she pushed her legs forward. Rounding corners, she fell only to scramble up again only after a moments hesitation, her fingers helping her launch forward every time she pitched herself to the floor, clawing at wood and dirt like a wild animal in anguish.

Slamming the door open, all eyes were suddenly on her, and she regretted the steps that brought her here against all better judgement. Crashing to the floor, she jolted herself forward towards the only one in the room she knew would catch her, had always caught her before when she lost herself. Her best friend's eyes watched her warily, as he stood up, trying to gauge her stance as in danger or not.

She could feel herself shaking violently and couldn't answer the questions in Isshin's eyes herself, stumbling weakly towards him. Before she could say anything another figure flash stepped behind her, finally catching up with her. Rangiku Matsumoto did not look pleased, having to run after the woman that was supposed to be in a coma still. The door snapped fully into the wall as the younger woman angrily continued her chase into the small grouping of Shinigami, her hand on the door frame sliding down the polished wood as she entered the room.

The violet haired woman whipped around, hearing her attendant reach her at last, mildly out of breath from the chase.

"Please!" she shrieked, as she hastened her steps backward. Kirio tripped on her long yukata, landing hard on the side of her thigh as she tried to scramble away again, unable to gain enough distance between the two of them. "Please, leave me alone! Stop! Stop!"

Turning in on herself, she began shrieking , her manicured fingers clawing at her hair as she flipped onto her stomach, squirming like a serpant as she thrashed her face against the ground, curling into herself.

Rangiku didn't know what she had done wrong. She had only watched her, that was it- she had done nothing to invoke this kind of fear. Reaching out, the blonde touched her hair, brushing the locks from her face as she knelt down, shaken by the look the woman now gave at her as if she saw a ghost come to life, "Hey, look its alright you're safe now..."

"Matsumoto!" Hitsugaya's voice broke through to her, and her honey blonde head whipped to meet his eyes, "Get out of here already!"

Without a second to waste, she obeyed her captain in record breaking time for her as she lifted herself from the floor, and flitted out, upset. No one had ever looked at her that way before, not like she had destroyed something precious to them. It hurt her, almost as much as she thought the woman must herself hurt, and she was desperate to get away. She ran, faster than necessary, as she let herself take as much distance as she could, running until exhaustion took in and brought her to her knees.

Only then did she let herself cry, there in the desert she had been born to, where she had found her rebirth and Gin and everything was good in her life.

How had this happened? She wasn't certain she could hold it together and go back to face them, not ever. Pressing herself into the tree, she swore she felt arms, his arms wrap around her and pull her against her lover's chest, his breath calling the life back into her.

Turning, she couldn't believe her eyes, as she wrapped her arms around Gin Ichimaru, burying her tear streaked face in his chest. The reality of it all was too much, and whether he had both his arms or not, what truly mattered was he was_** awake **_again,

"There, there. Ran...Rann..." his strong hand, a swordsman's hand, wove into her curls, gently scratching her scalp as he drew her closer to his beating heart, "Let it out, I'm here for you now."

Her hands gripped him in an iron hold and he flinched from the force of her grasp, but he bore it well despite the weakness in his muscles protested at being seized.

_**XOX**_

"ITS HER, ANATA!" Kirio shook as Isshin pulled her off the floor, his strong arms becoming an iron band around her. Her lungs took uneven, shuttering breaths and each was sucked in with such force that all of the men in the room winced; she was ripping her body apart without doing anything but crying.

In her turmoil, her hands clawed at his arms, tearing the haori and his flesh. Without a word, he tucked her against him, stroking her hair lovingly. He understood that nothing could be said, nothing could be done. Isshin could only hold her near, and hope she calmed enough to speak to him.

Stretched beneath her hand, Isshin recalled the wicked scar, cut into her by her own hands and sewn hastily shut by his own inexperienced ones.

"She was my baby... my baby..."

Slowly, the room emptied out as her reitsu began to flex violently, burning away the edges of the others.

Only Isshin and a strict faced Ukitake remained to notice the sweet smell of white wine new on the air, which seemed to pour from her weeping blue eyes.

_**XOX**_

_**Cause if right is leaving**_

_**I'd rather be wrong**_

_**Cause she is the sunlight**_

_**And the sun is gone**_

_**She is the sunlight**_

_**And the sun is gone**_

_**XOX**_

Aizen moved with a purpose. He had come to rival his own father, he knew he would, but even that had not opened his eyes. In his father's kingdom, those that challenged him were dealt an iron hand or were locked away where he could watch them closely. Here, in this lawless world, he was king, and he ruled alone; he had to force order again, he understood that his absence had opened a great rift and many had raised claws and teeth to raise their status in this citadel. He would raise his hand and seize control of the shattered peace he had once maintained, and he would have to do it quickly if he were to protect his child when she would return, and return she would; the fortress of Las Noches was the only safe place she had ever been in her life, he was certain she knew that.

The landscape was a desolate as he remembered, save a small head of twisted aqua that bounced across the white sands playfully, rolling and spinning along the ground. A smile spread over his thin lips, as he realized the creatures identity, knowing that she could be the shift he needed to send Las Noches into chaos again, his ace in the hole. He altered his direction to come upon her.

The wind changed with him, blowing up a dust cloud of the powdery sand. It announced his entry into the plane. The breeze caught her hair, whipping it about and she halted her play as if she felt something deep within that cried for her attention immediatly.

The small hollow dove away from him the moment she sensed him, anxious to escape from his notice. His gaze settled on the young, ancient one as she began trying her wild attempt at burying herself in the white sands she called her home. "Neliel Tu Odelschwanck. I have come to call upon you once again. Do not fear me, you are worth far more alive to me than you are dead."

Raising her head from the sand, she turned wide eyes to look at the menacing man behind her, approaching on silent feet. She had learned to obey and fear him, as all the other hollows had. She thought nothing of his friendship, only his wrath. Hollows had no friends, no kindness; why would he be any different?

Although... He did not appear to be like the man that had enslaved her kind before. This man seemed weary, perhaps without a plan. His hair was dishevelled, not slicked back and perfect as it once was and his shirt was unbuttoned to his abdomen and wrinkled.

Turning once more from him, she bolted away towards where she had left her fraccions. She wasn't stupid enough to decline him without back up. Nel doubted her assessment was a good one, and she wasn't willing to risk her neck if she had been wrong.

"I want you to take back your place in Las Noches. Help me seize control of my kingdom. You will not regret your hand in my ascent to power again. Neliel, come back here."

In her escape, she paid him little mind until his hand seized the back of her dress, dragging her back again; she fell to her knees and slid easily to his feet. She shook as his hand touched the middle of her back, pushing her forward into a position that reminded her of a dog, her hands grasping the sand and her feet bent to collapse beneath the weight he was exerting on her ribs. His open hand bore down on her and burning sensation seized her like candle wax being dripped over the back of her ribcage and into the depths of her intestines. When he released her, the girl desperately reached behind her and felt as best as she could for the Espada number. The raised number felt off to her, but she couldn't pinpoint what exactly why.

Her gaze raised to Sousuke Aizen's gold rimmed brown ones, watching him, reading his stance before her. His smile grew the longer she sat on her rump, knowing she was now open to listening to him, and eventually to making his mission a reality.

"Congratulations. You are now the dos Espada. Get up Nel. We have worlds to conquer."

_**XOX**_

Aizen marched on Las Noches, unaffected by those that might stand in his way. Many approached, but made no move to stop him as he strode down the halls, Neliel Tu timidly behind him walking scantily dressed for her position in his army with her hands pulling the ripped dress she wore down to cover to her knees. The small girl looked around with wonder and worry alike, her spirtitual centers fanning out like fire, trying to ignite everything it touched.

So many hollows now threw themselves out of the path of Aizen and his newly reborn Espada, unwilling to fall to the wrath of their past master nor his new pet, their reitsu unhindered as they moved down the halls. The new paint on the walls peeled as they continued on, doors opening on their own. Those too stupid to flee would be rendered to ash, but it appeared that none of those existed anymore.

Good, there was no longer room in his army for mistakes.

Coming to the throne room, the doors blasted open with a wave of his hand and he strode in with an air of regality, his head cautiously observing the room he once presided over.

Halibel was in the throne room; when he approached, he knew she must have already recieved word that he had returned. All of the other hollows she had promoted were no where to be seen, no one stood between her and her would be king. Her soft face raised, eyelashes fluttering delicately in feminity as she turned to look at him over her shoulder.

As she caste her green eyes to the intruders to her home, a wicked smile spread across her lips behind her hood, "Welcome home, _**Lord Aizen**_."

"Tia," Sousuke Aizen called her informally, the threat there laced in his tone, "where is Stark?"

She shook her head, and answered the question he had yet to asked, "We will not raise our blades against you, Sousuke Aizen. We know better than to stand between you and your path to heaven."

A wicked smile spread over his lips, "Go then, Lady Halibel, and prepare this citadel for my daughter, and when she does return, make of yourself a friend for her."

"As you wish," the blonde woman bowed, her hand sweeping before her as she leaned over, palm upwards, as if asking for his hand, "Aizen-sama."

She straightened mechanically and turned, abruptly making for the door.

"Oh Halibel."

"You forgot yourself. It's rude not to acknowledge _**everyone **_in the room that are above you. I will not accept anything but the utmost respect in this, Halibel."

Her face turned to face the two, and her eyes drifted to the dark, scriptive 'two' that glared at her from beneath the rip in her dress. Halibel had sensed her approach as much as Aizen's but she had no idea that she could have raised her strength enough to be a challenger for the crown. Her eyes darted between the two, and finally, understood, "I apologize, Aizen-sama, Odelschwanck-sama. I will not make such an error again."

"Do well not to, Tia. I have come to cleanse all of the darkness from my kingdom, and I find you worthy enough to survive. Do not challenge my initial assessment."

Bowing to the two, she darted from the room. She wasn't stupid. If she stayed there too much longer, she had no doubt that he would relieve her neck from her head. That was the way things were in Hueco Mundo, after all. Those smart enough to out maneuver all those that challenged them were able to live another day. It was not always the strongest that made it up the ladder, but sometimes the smartest, or the one with the most ruthlessness.

She would one day show him that.

With that in mind, she dispatched those she had shown mercy to once, clearing the way to empty the halls of the worms that had come up to squirm in her king's home.

She would have to speak with Starrk on this. Perhaps he would have a better insight.

_**XOX**_

_**Author's notes: **_

_**Rangiku actually means key to heaven, so both are right, Gin's translation as well as Isshin's.**_

_**It has been my long standing theory of mine that the necklace Rangiku wears is a rosary**_

_**Any who, reviews are great.**_

_**Lyrics belong to Trading Yesterday- "She is the Sunlight"**_

_**ONEGAI= PLEASE - KOWAI= SCARY - OBI JIME= ROPE AROUND OBI**_

_**Next time, we'll learn more about the Royal Family.**_

_**With much love, **_

_**TAO RI**_


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